The Bite: Afterlife
by RyokoMist
Summary: alternate version to LibraDiva83's "Bite of Life". On her way home Max's attacked& bitten by a strange man. Everything's changing including her appetite. Can Max still be with the man she loves? Can she live normally? Is the attacker's thirst satisfied?
1. Chapter 1

_So I have done it! Here is my alternate version to LibraDiva83's vamp fic "Bite of Life". Im going to try and post the next chapter tonight as well. Anyways guys, please tell me what you think - especially those of you who have already started reading Libra's original story! Thankies! Characters are OOC because...well, Max's a friggin vampire! XD _

* * *

_**Preface**_

It hurt, it hurt like hell; the sheer force of the pain within itself was enough to nearly make Max scream…and scream she did – her body cringing and convulsing upon her apartment floor. "Max! What's wrong?" Terry yelled out. What's wrong? She couldn't seem to form the words to describe it – plus she just had no fucking clue. Something inside was finally changing after the past couple of days, burning, growing infinitely stronger – stronger, at least, that anything she had ever been capable of.

But none of that mattered. All Maxine Gibson knew was that she was in horrifying pain; and she was positive that this agony had everything to do with that man…the one she had tried to help…only for him to sink his teeth deep into her neck as the sound of something gulping – the sound of quenched thirst – filled her ears. The sound of a thirsted creature from fables as old as time; a creature she'd refused to believe existed... And now that same thirst was beginning to burn in the girl's throat. Her eyes fixing urgently on the neck of Terrence. Max could all but see his blood coursing through his veins, all while the poor fool stared at her with worry and confusion.

Her hand extends forth and clutches tightly onto his shoulder – the pain subsiding as rapidly as it had come – an untamed expression burning her features. "Terry-," her voice, dry and hot, manages to cough out.

"I'm here for you," McGinnis declares, allowing his best friend to pull him straight into her chest, her lips at her ear as if she were about to reveal a secret. "You seem better, it's going to be okay. What happened?"

"Terry," Max sighs out again, her nails gripping tighter, her mouth extending to his neck. It called, beckoned for her. Have it! She must have it! She'd die without it! Her golden irises grow wide with a maddened stare as her jaws were just inches from where the blood was flowing strongest; Gibson's mouth opens wide, her fangs flaring outward for the flesh that laid there. Hungry…she was so hungry! She inhales and states, "Feed…"

"Max?"

_A creature she'd refused to believe existed…the sound of a __**vampire**__._

_To be Continued…_


	2. Chapter 2 Lurking in the Shadows

_Hey! I managed to do it! yaaaaaaaaaaaaay! anyways, here is the next chapter. Please r&r and tell me what you think. I hope Max's attack wasn't too cliche'. Thanks LibraDiva83 for allowing me to do this!_

* * *

_**Lurking In the Shadows**_

Maxine stretched and yawned wearily under the faint glow of the lamp on her desk. Yes, her desk. It wasn't easy being a twenty-three year old head over a facility. Damn Mr. Wayne. Being of great importance of Wayne Medical was a pretty big deal. She headed a lot of research and development in this building, working to find cures for common as well as uncommon illnesses, treating her patients and suppliers and investors with as much care as that particular individual deserved. Oh yeah, she was still good ole Max: renegade for life. But that also meant having to work directly with Wayne Powers…and ofcourse Paxton could kiss her natural black ass. Gibson slouches her chin upon her upraise palms, blowing air from her lip and letting it fluff a strand of her pink pixie cut hair. Who said just because she was important the girl had to conform to society's perception of "normal" or "appropriate"? The closest to civilized Max's hair looked was the fuller bangs that curled adorably like a doll over her forehead, and the cute pixie curls that showered themselves over Max's hair in intricate detail now that her locks had a bit more body and volume to it than back when she was a teen. On any other woman, like Dana perhaps, it would have looked sophisticated…on Max, it looked sexy and bad ass. Renegade for life.

She flicks the plate with her name engraved on it and sighs. It kinda pissed her off. She slouches and reaches down to grab hold of the briefcase resting on the floor to prepare to leave from the office. With an exhale of relief Gibson turns off the lamp and exits, locking the door behind her and waving goodnight to the janitorial staff.

While being head analyst, head doctor, whatever the hell they wanted to call it, paid exceptionally well considering the company who owned her, it wasn't something to jump about. Because that was just it: she was _owned_. Yeah by Bruce which didn't mean the end of the world, but Paxton was getting pretty high and mighty and she really just wanted to kick his ass. The name irked her soul. Wonder if she still had Kal-El's number? Now that would burn Terry to pieces. Ever since Max and Clark became such close friends when she was living in "Regret" shit got too real. She smirks.

What Max really wanted was to go into criminal investigation – become a cop! It pissed her off that she could still wind up doing what her parents wanted. She steps outside in the dark of night to head home. Usually she'd get a ride since her car was out of commission…but she just _had_ to stay late. Then again, she'd do anything for Terry. Apparently the "slappers" were headed back on the streets but this time a bit more…potent. He needed Max to analyze what chemicals were being laced in the pad to be able to narrow down possible processors. She had turned up some rather interesting leads on her own (hacking and getting involved in vigilante business was her forte' after all), but wouldn't reveal anything until her friend made his nightly visit – maybe even blackmail him for the info. She chuckles quietly – Terry always did call her a sadist; she was starting to think he may have a point. In the meantime a new question arose: what the hell was she going to make them for dinner?

The black beauty treads underneath a streetlight, heading towards the subway while occasionally peering back. There wasn't enough money for a cab; the train was the only other option. And even though this area had practically been imprinted with Max's footsteps by now an overwhelming caution suddenly plagued the young woman – unable to shake the worry that someone was following her. Before Max even realizes it she had boarded the train, holding her head down but glimpsing at every single face there…faces which, the vast majority, seemed to be focused if not in her direction, _on_ her. Something strange was going on. Of all the nights not to just wait for McGinnis to come pick her up. The janitorial staff would've been there late, and when they left there were still security guards who rotated shifts. The current guard on duty would've been there to three a.m. and the second coming in at 2:45 to cover the mid-morning shift. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The train reaches its destination, only four blocks from her apartment and she raced out of the station. Her hand gripped her jacket pocket, finding and clutching the canister of pepper spray for dear life. Thankfully she wasn't like most female doctors: wearing tight dresses and high heeled shoes. Nope. Max always believed a woman should have at least a pair of flats if not gym shoes if she wasn't driving home, or wasn't parked nearby. So that's what Gibson did. She donned a pair of fancy looking gym shoes (black in color) and black slacks with a navy blue t-shirt. Renegade. For. Life. But the uneasiness wouldn't leave, and only a block from her home Max was running to the building – the lights never looking soooo good…running until she caught sight of a figure hunched over in the alleyway.

Fear gripped like a vice. Had the person been mugged? Killed? Damn, Batman needed to step his game up. "Hello?" she calls. Right Max; talk to the ominous figure in the blackened alleyway – that made _soooooo_ much sense. It wasn't her problem –it could be a trap. It…..

And then a voice comes from the form: throaty, whispered, like death. "H-help…me…"

Common sense vanishes from the part-time sidekick's conscious and she immediately dashes into the alley and leans down upon the man. What the hell was wrong with her? It was like she had no control over that action. He was slumped against the bricked wall, head dangling down with a hole in his chest like something large and sharp had been shot forth into him with full detrimental force. Dark liquid oozed from the wound and the man's lips – his skin was so abnormally paled too…abnormally. "Hang on," she says, looking around for any sign of whoever did this or help. Neither showed themselves. "You're going to be okay. I'm a doctor…er, sort of." Her eyes look him over for any other signs of injury.

If it weren't for the blatant warning signs of impending death this guy would be pretty – and yeah it sounded shallow to think but – hot. From what she could make out he had dark brown hair short yet perfectly straight (though due to certain circumstances it was sprawled crazily about his face, making him look more like an injured creature rather than human); his glassed over eyes were a brilliant shade of hazel, skin cream and flawless like some movie star or something…a pretty boy. Not exactly her type, buuuut.

Max pulls out her cell phone and dials – the other line picking up after the first half-ring. "Hey Max," that sensual voice answers in that herald hero tone. "You got my info?" Selfish bastard!

"Max," the second, elderly voice scorns, "how many times do I have to tell you-?"

"Yeah yeah" Gibson cuts off hastily. "'Line is off limits', I know! Terry I need your help."

"What's up?" the bat questions.

"This guy's been shot or stabbed or hit with a damn cannon ball or something and there's blood everywhere and I -!" But she doesn't have the time to finish. Within that instant the man the grabs her by the wrist.

"Max," the wounded stranger whispers. He yanks, pulling her closer to him and opening his mouth wide enough for the Batman's closest friend to see fangs extending for her. There is a sharp pinch on her throat, followed by pain and draining weakness. She was shocked – unsure even. This couldn't be happening. Her body felt stiff as the man began to dig his jaws deeper into her flesh. Terry…Terry save me…TERRY! "!"

"Max? MAX!"

********* He had been lying there on the verge of death or whatever it was called when something like him would no longer be able to walk the earth. For once "the end" seemed like an interesting proposition until…until _her_ scent filled his nostrils. She was so pure, so _enticing_. The mouthwatering aroma – the love and conflicted anger that made up this woman's very existence added an inhuman lure and desire. He must have her – what she was would make his body whole again…her death would sustain him. Closer – he had to draw her closer. "H-help…me…" Naturally she came, rushing to his side instantaneously without the slightest hint of hesitation. Brave girl.

She was so close, the scent overwhelming his senses. She pulled out a cell phone and engaged in conversation with two men – urgent, relaxed, flustered. And in the instant that the line picked up her heartbeat accelerated, her blood rushing faster…tempting. Now was the time, before her help arrived. "Max," he whispered, somehow enjoying the way her name came out on his barely noticeable breath, having heard the name mentioned on the other line of her cell with keen ears. The smell was too strong, too stifling. Maddened thirst overwhelmed the fatally injured creature as it inhaled sharply and sank its fangs into her lovely tender throat. The sensation of warm blood oozed down the stranger's mouth into his body; wounds beginning to heal already. She seemed frozen for a moment – whether from fear, confusion, or both he did not know – but before long the natural response takes effect and a shrilling scream floods the air

The monster could have stopped. He'd taken enough to allow his body to strengthen: but her taste was too delicious, needless to say he was being greedy. But the quarry would not make this an easy kill. She was fighting, and strong for a human; so to the point he had to pin her to the ground in order to continue feeding, climbing atop and between her frame. She kicked and punched and struggled, but the more it fed the less strength Max seemed to have. Her screams were quieting into whimpers and whines, pounding fists upon his face losing all vigor. _Yes. Enough struggling little one. Sleep._

Yet as soon as the situation seemed to reach its resolve, in the midst of the feed her blood brings about a taste of overwhelming sorrow that makes the creature release its hold with a gasp. Weakened but wanting to live Max uses this as a chance to roll over and make her escape. Gibson somehow manages to rise and drift away, a hand clutching her profusely bleeding neck. The stranger does not follow…the hunger had vanished. He was mesmerized…intrigued.

**** Terry didn't know what the hell was going on but the sounds were horrific. Maxine's phone had remained on and the entire time Batman was tracking her cell's signal, he could hear the sound of a struggle – of Max being attacked and screaming, pleading for it to stop. He shivers in remembrance of the noise that faintly echoed through the line when his best friend's cries were all but silenced…like the noise of something _drinking_. Even Bruce was silent; unsure of what to say. He was never unsure of what to say.

With a sharp turn the Batjet hovers over the alleyway where the signal was strongest. Engaging the ride's camouflage Batman leaps out and practically throws up at the sight of what laid before him. Lying on the ground was Max's phone, still linked to the call, covered in blood; and as the Dark Knight looked around the signs of a struggle and blood surrounded him. He'd seen some gruesome stuff before but this was different. This was _Max_. Her screams, her _blood_…it was Max. Shreds of clothing fabric were scattered as well – this guy obviously wanted to remove any obstacle coming between he and his victim. Batman shudders at that word. His eyes search for some indication of hope – discovering a trail of blood leading away from the alley and to the street. He follows it all the way to the apartment complex and ignites his jet boots, allowing them to propel them upwards to Max's apartment window.

He growls out, forcing the window open and landing on the bedroom floor. It was dark in the house, and there was no sign of life. "Max?" he calls. "Max? Where are you?" There was no response. He was afraid…terrified. Batman gulps, rushing to the living room and finding a horrific sight. Max: covered in blood and ripped clothes and lying on her back – eyes wide open, barely breathing. "MAX!"

_To be Continued…_


	3. Chapter 3 Venomous

Hey guys! Here it is, the newest chapter. Now, as I've stated: although this story is kinda based off of LibraDiva83's original story "Bite of Life" there are a lot of things I may do differently so anybody who has started reading Libra's version now you not to be confused. Now, this was just done off the top of my head sooooooooo idk how it turned out. Please read and review to let me know what you guys think. and feel free to visit my facebook group to stay current on all the updates, latest chapters, and newest stories.! thanks everyone! (sorry for any possible typos)

Shout out to my bestie and the one who inspired this fic **LibraDiva83_._**love you!

and **Gleek2Beat** hey long time no see!

and ofcourse shout outs to my staff member **shejams**, and my faithful readers **Dispatcher652 **and **Silverquickstar. **now back to our regularly scheduled progam!

* * *

_**Venomous**_

_The dark walls were surrounding her, approaching closer and closer until Max could feel her body, her existence starting to grow claustrophobic. Whispers danced in the air, the walls opening briefly to let in the form of a man. "Terry?" Max whimpers frighteningly, overlooking the shadowed figure which appeared to be her best friend before sighing in relief and rushing to his arms. "Oh Terry! I'm so glad it's you! We have to get out," she adds, looking around about them, not paying any attention to his arms slowly moving up her waist._

_ "Max..."_

_ Gibson stiffens. That wasn't McGinnis's voice. It was a voice she didn't know personally – but one that had somehow became all too familiar after just hearing it once in the girl's life. Max slowly looks up to the hidden face with bewilderment. "Terry?" His hand suddenly clutches her arm roughly; Max squealing out in pain. "Stop it! That hurts!" His opposite hand touches her face gently, then moves down to her neck as the face leans forward. "What are you-? Stop! Terry!" The face becomes visible, and she sees him – that man, a cool smile on his lips before they part back over his large protruding fangs, his hand clasping tightly to her curly pink hair – yanking her head back. Max screams, eyes widening in terror as she tries to fend him off. "STOP IT! HELP ME! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" The fangs sink into her throat as they topple over to the floor. The black walls grow ever the closer as the man feeds on top of her, Gibson's screams and free hand reaching out into the nothingness. She could not escape. She couldn't escape!_

"NOOOOO!" Max lunges forward with a yell of fear, fingers clutching to the sheet and eyes widened in terror. Her body was covered in sweat, her neck throbbing suddenly in pain. Her labored breathing finally begins to slow as the door opens swiftly and Terry rushes inside.

"Max! Are you okay?"

"A dream…just a dream…" Easier said than believed. Her head hurt, pounding mercilessly enough to temporarily shake off the memories of both that night as well as the horrid nightmare. She looks around. "Where am I?"

"Home." Terry answers with a worried gaze. "You've been sleeping for three days."

Max's brows tense before she comes to a bitter realization. "Three days? Shit! I'm late!" She throws the sheets away from her and tries to stand when her mind fogs and balance becomes impossible. Terrence reaches out a hand to steady her, laying her back in the bed.

"Wayne took care of it. Don't move."

"Okay," Gibson sasses, trying to lighten the heavy mood, "did you run me over in the car or what?"

But Terry was far from pleased. A scowl flares upon his features and his icy blue eyes freeze over. "That's not funny, Max."

Maxine pouts. "You're no fun."

"No fun? What's wrong you? Do you honestly think now's the time to be cracking jokes? You almost died Max! I fail to see the humor I that!" Max's face crumbles under his harsh rebuke, looking away and out the window into the darkened air – the black of night starting to re-arouse that frightening encounter. Terry's anger seemed to make her wounds suddenly ignite in pain once more: her head slowly hammering, her body trembling weakly, and the soreness in her bones returning; though she couldn't imagine how she could be sore – the girl hadn't moved in three days! And then there was the slight burning sensation in her neck…odd.

"I know," Max whispers. "I was _there_, remember?"

McGinnis exhales loudly as he takes a seat beside her on the bed. "I didn't mean to snap at you," he apologizes. "It was just…crazy. Seeing you like that." Terrence grits his teeth; his fist balls into the sheets. "Blood was everywhere. When I found you I took you to Wayne's. You were in pretty bad shape then; and you wouldn't wake up. But eventually you seemed to do better, so we brought you back here." Immediately her best friend remains silent. The last thing he wanted to do was drag up those memories.

"Terry?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." Max holds his hand and leans into his shoulder, sniffling before crying out loud. Terry holds her close.

****As the days passed Max recovered quite well, so to the point that she'd even returned back to work. It was a mystery that no one could explain. Her body was healed, though often times the woman would grow incredibly weak, or her neck would agitate her. No pain medicine seemed to really work – only ice on the wound had seemed to stay off the pain. Life returned to normal – or as normal as life could get for a genius and reborn vigilante in a super powered suit. Even the majority of the girl's bruises and wounds and vanished save the two puncture marks engraved into her neck. But along with the positive outlook on things came also some strange occurrences. For one thing: Max's natural chestnut skin had somewhat paled in comparison to how it once was in the past; and then with each day her eye color seemed to lighten significantly to the point that they were now a golden brown in color, very vibrant and loud, almost with a unnatural tint to them that stood out more than anything.

Not that it was Terry who noticed these changes. He had been out every night continuing to search for the cannibalistic attacker to no end. But Max had more than enough time to notice the changes. How could she not with the sleep deprivation? Max still slept, just not as long as she usually did…she probably got less sleep than an insomniac. The cause for the lack of sleep baffled her – and she eventually came to the hypothesis that she was simply scared out of her mind. Every time the loyal friend would drift that horrifying night would reoccur, enough to jolt any natural man back to consciousness.

And there was something else: no matter how much Max ate she was never completely full. Any food she ate was enough to simply stave off the hunger, but not satisfy it. Strange. Max could put it away as it was but this was ridiculous! Her mind had been wondering at the possibilities of what had happened to her that night. And while Terry was convinced that some rabid cannibal was the cause of her ailments Maxine wasn't quite sure. The woman had never been one for superstition or fabled mythology – heck, she even questioned the existence of God at times (though she came to believe that the higher being did exist after many…near death experiences she'd had; particularly linked with Batman. _Somebody_ must have been watching over her), but since the attack odd things were taking fold – things which Gibson felt it appropriate to research on. The internet didn't seem to hold much information except for the basic Dracula, Twilight, Transylvania stuff so she thought it best to go old school. Littered across the doctor's apartment laid books; stacks of books, MOUNTAINS of books. And they weren't your basic 50 page piece of literature, no. These were Encyclopedias and Dictionaries and pages of research that held within its bonds hundreds of pages – a few going past 450 pages to be exact.

And Max read them…literally _read_ them. And near the books were notepads where she'd written hand notes of key information she'd found. Yeah Gibson probably could've just typed them out on the computer but for whatever reason she desired something a bit more definitive. And it wasn't like the woman didn't have time on her hands; the lack of sleep made an excellent opportunity to begin or continue the research – the overwhelming craving for knowledge always strongest after the nightmare.

And though the documents often left her skeptical Max couldn't stop reading. Whether from curiosity or recognition was unknown. There were countless of times that Max strolled the city at night; her eyes becoming very aware of people: not just normal citizens (though they looked the part). There were people whom she could directly pick out within the crowd – those who stood out to her senses. They appeared normal but something about them was far from it. And when she looked at them, they (seeming to feel her gaze upon them) would stare back – not in bewilderment or uneasiness, but out of some form of apparent mutual perception, acknowledgment…_identification_. Yes, that was the word: _identification_, as if they _knew_ who or (in this case) _what_ she was; and that frightened her because that was just the thing: she didn't know who she was or, perhaps, what she had become if not turning into.

And since the attack Max couldn't really talk to anyone about it – well, not Terry at least; the boy completely shut down at the slightest thought of it – but surprisingly there was one person who was always there as a confidant and support system…Chelsea Cunningham – the lovely blonde, fair skinned female from Hamilton Hill High School that every guy in the school, the many guys in Gotham who would love to hit it…multiple times. Quite a beautiful woman indeed…Max had become more intrigued with Cunningham within the past few days – and the attraction was mutual. There was something different there.

There's a timid knock on Max's apartment door on Saturday night around seven o'clock. Max looks up from her books curiously, raises from her bed and walks to the front door, looking into the peep hole before grinning at sight of the woman staring right back with a wide smile. "Hey baby."

Max giggles, pulling the door open and leaning against the frame with folded arms. "Chels."

Cunningham raises two cups of coffee. "I come in peace."

"For me?" Max questions flirtatiously. "You shouldn't have." She motions her head inward, inviting her best friend into the apartment as they both sit down on the couch together. "You always look so cute, Chelsea. Sometimes you make me jealous." Chelsea shrugs, not wearing anything special to her except for a short, sleeveless, every day dress and wedged gym shoes. She guessed it looked away with the way it clung to her smooth frame.

Cunningham rests her elbow on the top ledge of the sofa and sighs, eyeing Maxine seductively. "You're not looking too bad yourself Maxie-bae. I mean, you've always had a banging body but there's something…" Chelsea inhales with a tempting lure. "…_intoxicating_ about you." Max blushes, fingering the edge of her pale pink crop top and squeezing her thighs together which were wearing a ragged pair of blue jeans. The only thing Max considered different with what she had on was the black nail polish with a slight sliver of pink designs on her hands and toes. Who would've known nail polish could make such a difference? Chelsea puts the rim of her thermo coffee mug to her lips. "You look thirsty, drink."

Gibson raises a brow but does as she is told: and nearly gasps in shock when her hungry stomach settles. The starving sensation that once was overwhelmingly impossible was gone with a simple sip of coffee…Max continues to drink, practically gulping the liquid down without hesitation. "Damn Chelsea, what's in this?"

Cunningham closes her eyes. "Nothing much…Just a little life."

Max pauses. "What did you say?" Chelsea doesn't respond immediately and Gibson begins to slowly rise from the couch. Life. She'd read that some of the creatures – the beings she had refused to acknowledge existed – often called their source of existence "the life" since ancient times; blood.

"What's the matter Maxie. You look like you've seen a ghost. Or better yet," Chelsea hisses out, leaning forward into Max's frame, "a _vampire_." Her mouth opens and a small set of fangs lay wait in her perfect mouth.

Max grows frozen in place, now noticing Chelsea's glowing blue eyes and the distinction that she would get from the others around the city…others who appeared to hold strange attributes unlike any other human. So, her greatest fear was alive. "You're…not a myth."

Chelsea smiles. "You should know that better than anyone, Maxie." Her eyebrows furrow briefly. "Though for whatever reason you aren't…right."

Max gulps. "Chelsea…how?"

Cunningham sighs out, looking around about the room. "Please, the last time I saw you, the smell was there. I was shocked, trust. But it's good, having someone to understand. You've been doing some research I see. But how would you like a little one on one personal interview?" Max bites her lip. She was very well intrigued. "See, I'm a little bit different from the rest of our kin. I'm not as…pure as the rest of them."

Max relaxes some and chuckles quietly under her breath; unsure if she was simply going mad or just didn't care anymore. "Somehow I'm not even surprised."

"My father is a weak, insignificant, fool hearty, selfish, ignorant, rude, brash, self-absorbed, filthy, dreg of a human."

"Oooo, touchy." Both girls laugh with one another, the atmosphere surprisingly as relaxed and free as it had always been since high school. It was kind of bewildering at first: Chelsea had always been Dana's best friend, and Max was best friends with Terry since they were kids; and yet in the midst of that both females instantly connected in grade nine and stayed together quite often. The simple fact that Max's tastes were somewhat different from her own appeased the young vamp. The African American femme fatale had a certain layer of charm to her way of speaking, mannerisms, _everything_ – and Cunningham liked that. She wasn't a bore like the others, and better yet now they were the same.

"But my mother," Chels continues with a gentle grin of remembrance. "My mother was a pure-blooded vampire. She'd only been alive for about hundred years before she met my dad – though I have no clue what she saw in him. My mother said she loved my father at some point. Maybe just because he was human and something interesting and new to her; or maybe there was something there before the old man became an asshole. My dad says she just wanted a kid." Cunningham shrugs. "Who really knows the answer to this ish?"

"So let me get this straight: you're half human, half vampire. Is that why you can walk around in daylight?"

Chelsea laughs. "Max, you shouldn't believe everything you see on TV. Some of us can walk in the sunlight, others can't."

"Why?"

"Hell if I know! I'm still a baby! And my mom's not around anymore. I can't get any answers, I'm just as confused as you are."

"So why are you here?"

"I was curious."

"About?"

"What do you think?"

Max nibbles on her bottom lip a little more. "Are you going to, you know, eat me?"

Chelsea grins.

***** "I'm telling you Bruce, something is off. _Way_ off. I can't find the friggin' cannibal, and Max is constantly avoiding me…"

"You should give her some time," Bruce says, looking up at the computer screen blankly as he always did. "She was attacked, remember?"

But McGinnis ignores the old man. "And Chelsea's hanging around a lot more than usual. Isn't she usually attached to Dana's hip?"

"I hope you're just talking to yourself. I still don't understand this new generation. In my day-."

"It makes no sense. I knew Max and Chelsea were close but this is ridiculous." Terry slips off the cowl and leans against the "operation table" as they liked to call it. His face was puzzled. "You should've seen them at the mall yesterday Bruce. Every time somebody walked by they acted like they wanted to eat them up or something. Plus Chelsea's being a bit more intimate…and that's saying _a lot_ for Chelsea."

"Jealousy isn't a good fit for you, McGinnis. So what if your new competition is another girl?"

"Competition? What? Chelsea isn't like that-," McGinnis pauses then. "Oh damn…"

"Besides, I thought guys were into that stuff."

"You don't find that weird?"

Bruce types some letters into the mainframe and looks at a list of faces that flash across the computer screen. "Kid, there was always stuff going on when I wore the suit. I had to deal with Poison Ivy and her 'best friend' Harley Quinn. Believe me when I say, 'I've seen things'."

Terry sighs. "Max even, I don't know, looks different. Her wounds are healed and she's got this sex appeal to her."

"Wouldn't you call that progress?"

"I don't know." All Terry could hope to do was continue watching over his best friend, making sure she was okay. A task which seemed to grow more and more difficult with each passing hour.

******* He stalked the shadows, lurking and searching, trying to catch traces of her to no avail. Ever since that night he'd thought of nothing but her, the girl Max; it wasn't out of hunger. He needed her presence – the very image of her perfect round face was enough to nearly make his dead heart come back to life. But it didn't take long for the information he so desired to get out. There was a new vamp in Gotham, beautiful brown skinned with pink hair. And although his kind were few in this city of New York the buzz was spreading round about her. The vampires were intrigued with this new member who was one of them – but not one of them. Clans were always looking for new additions, loners for a partner to assist. But most of these fools were still very young, inexperienced. They knew nothing of the ways of their kind; ways that he had perfected.

He watched the half-blood female travel back and forth between her home and the apartment for a few days now but the time was finally at hand. The moon was full, and no one was around. He stalked into the building, earning the looks of approval from young female humans like many of them did without too much notice. They'd make a tasty snack later, perhaps. The vampire followed Max's scent through the building until he came to the portal where it was strongest, assuming this to be her home and quietly letting himself in. The apartment was small yet cozy, and her smell was everywhere making his head spin. He walked past the couch, catching drifts of a mingled twinge of Max and the half-blood together; his mind wondering just what they had been doing for the smells to be mingled like that.

There was another odor – masculine, secretive, blatant. By the intensity of it he could tell that whoever this was had a tendency to visit quite often – every night in fact; and its smell was loud and abrasive in the bedroom…so close to where she slept. The vampire growled. The door opens and closes as he hears Max's voice drifting into the kitchen, talking to herself. "Chelsea you dance around the subject every time. I just want to know what's in the coffee…I mean, I already have an idea…" The keys clang upon the countertop. "What do you mean I won't be able to take it? I just asked you-!...Ugh, fine Cunningham, be that way. I'll see you Friday at the reunion, 'kay?...Love you too girl. Bye."

"That's such a strong word, Max."

Gibson drops her bag on the floor, wheeling around from the kitchen to find the man staring right at her, her nostrils flaring. "You…" There was no mistaking it: that flawless paled skin, mesmerizing hazel eyes and perfect silky hair. This had to be that same man from before. Only now he didn't look so much on the verge of death. He looked pretty hot actually. Gibson slaps herself mentally for even considering her attempted murderer's good looks.

"Missed me?"

"Of course, I love when guys try to suck my blood," Max sasses, backing up against the countertop, grabbing hold of a knife. "Who are you? What do you want with me?"

"Always the same questions – though in this case the tables should be turned, wouldn't you say so my dear?"

Max shakes her head back and forth. "You did something to me…"

"And I'm sure you're already very aware of what that is. But if you so like we can jump straight into the pleasantries." He stops pacing the room long enough to bow down before the woman in deep respect and exaltation before introducing, "I am Kavin."

"Pissed the fuck off," Max introduces with a scowl.

"So I've heard," Kavin smiles. "Though I'm sure you have already came to the conclusion concerning what I am this seems like the situation when all details must go in order…I am a vampire. A pure blood unlike your pretty little friend."

"So, Kavin," Max questions tightly with a tremble in her voice, "have you come back to finish me off? Just letting you know ahead of time: I don't die easy." Gibson raises the knife to the ready, a strange sensation burning in her throat like that of a fierce growl.

"Oh believe me, my dear – I am fully aware of your," Kavin thinks of a word, "_talent _for staying alive. Finish you," he muses quietly to himself with a bewildered chuckle. "With the deliciousness of your blood, a taste that none of my kind could even fathom existed, finishing you should've been done many nights ago. But instead I'm here trying to have a conversation – what do you say of that?" Kavin sits down on the couch, staring at her with such intensity Gibson felt self-conscious and uncomfortable.

"I don't know…" she shrugs; her inhale betraying ultimate fear. "Some people like to play with their food."

"Max your sense of humor never ceases to amuse me! For creatures such as myself, playing with our food would have to do with tormenting you, making you think that I'd play the human and let you survive; and then once you think you're free to go," he suddenly appears in front of her with his hand clasping to the beauty's throat, lips just inches from her neck and icy breath sending a hypnotic chill up her spine, "I begin to tear you limb from limb, drinking on your life while letting you live until you could feel your very own heart stop." He raises an eyebrow and then reappears on the couch with his legs crossed. "Funny, most women would've started stripping by that point. I wonder if it's the fact that you're no longer human?"

"Try the fact that I'm not like most girls."

"Dually noted."

"If you're not here to kill me then why are you here?" She was trying to stall time in hopes of one of two things happening: either Batman would fly by on his nightly patrol slash visit, or Chelsea would vamp up and kill the asshole. They were both coming by at some point every other night, fate wouldn't be a bitch and pull a random turnabout this time…._would it_?

Kavin narrows his brows, staring outside of her window for quite some time before turning all attention back on her. "When we were first met-." Max scoffs, causing Kavin to smirk before continuing, "When we were first met the only thing I wanted to do was drink your blood to heal myself. But you tasted so very delicious and I couldn't stop myself from finishing what I'd started. And yet somehow in the middle of that, before you would have been completely mine to feast upon, something inside of you lunged at me. It was a grief and longing and unexplainable beauty and temptation that I'd never had or heard of before…and believe me, I've been around long enough to know. It entranced me – locked me deep in its grasp." Kavin stands and slowly walks towards the girl. "And ever since that moment I can think of nothing but you. You plague my very thoughts, my existence seems inefficient without the thought of having you with me. But somehow in the midst of the attack you did not completely turn. You are bordering between man and beast; similar to your blonde friend. And you cannot border."

"Then turn me back to a human!"

"Oh Max, there is no going back – only forward."

The man walks closer to her, and Max lunges the blade forward and into his chest; but he doesn't even flinch. Couldn't say she was surprised. "Now, now Max. Let's not fight." He grabs the girl roughly and sinks his jaws into her throat once more as his free hand clamps over her mouth to silence her scream. Max's eyes begin to grow weak, and soon she falls into darkness – feeling nothing but the burning gaze of his longing eyes into her failing own. "Soon you will know everything beloved. But you can't understand…not until the change is complete…and once it is, we will meet again." Max's body slumps, falling upon the man's extended arm as he caressed her face gently.

****** "Max? MAX! HANG ON MAX!" She was returning into consciousness, and immediately the woman had wished otherwise. Her body hurt, it pulsated with pain. And the more conscious she became the worse it got.

Terry was hovered over her body, clasping on to her tight while on the phone with Bruce. He had come to visit her like normal; and was shocked to find the door partially open. And once the secret Batman pushed open the entryway he nearly keeled over at the sight of his dearest best friend sprawled about the floor, body convulsing. Blood had been dripping down her neck, the puncture marks looking a bit fresher than they had previously and he immediately feared that perhaps the cannibal had returned. He pulled out his phone and dialed Bruce immediately, explaining the scene while trying to get Max under control.

"I don't know what to do!" he pleaded with the old man.

"Terry, you've got to bring her to me. The one that did this might not be far away."

"I'll kill him!"

"You don't want to go down that road, McGinnis, believe me." Bruce had been doing some research and he already had a pretty big idea of what was going on.

"I can't move her! Max? It's me, I'm here. I'm right here."

It hurt, it hurt like hell; the sheer force of the pain within itself was enough to nearly make Max scream…and scream she did – her body cringing and convulsing upon her apartment floor. "Max! What's wrong?" Terry yelled out. What's wrong? She couldn't seem to form the words to describe it – plus she just had no fucking clue. Something inside was finally changing after the past couple of days, burning, growing infinitely stronger – stronger, at least, that anything she had ever been capable of.

But none of that mattered. All Maxine Gibson knew was that she was in horrifying pain; and she was positive that this agony had everything to do with that man…the one she had tried to help…only for him to sink his teeth deep into her neck as the sound of something gulping – the sound of quenched thirst – filled her ears. The sound of a thirsted creature from fables as old as time; a creature she'd refused to believe existed... And now that same thirst was beginning to burn in the girl's throat. Her eyes fixing urgently on the neck of Terrence. Max could all but see his blood coursing through his veins, all while the poor fool stared at her with worry and confusion.

Her hand extends forth and clutches tightly onto his shoulder – the pain subsiding as rapidly as it had come – an untamed expression burning her features. "Terry-," her voice, dry and hot, manages to cough out.

"I'm here for you," McGinnis declares, allowing his best friend to pull him straight into her chest, her lips at her ear as if she were about to reveal a secret. "You seem better, it's going to be okay. What happened?"

"Terry," Max sighs out again, her nails gripping tighter, her mouth extending to his neck. It called, beckoned for her. Have it! She must have it! She'd die without it! Her golden irises grow wide with a maddened stare as her jaws were just inches from where the blood was flowing strongest; Gibson's mouth opens wide, her fangs flaring outward for the flesh that laid there. Hungry…she was so hungry! She inhales and states, "Feed…"

"Max?"

The other line grew silent, and the connection was lost. "Terry? Terry!" The old man laces his fingers together underneath his chin, knowing almost instantly that his hypothesis was correct. There were vampires in Gotham.

_A creature she'd refused to believe existed…the sound of a __**vampire**__._

_To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4 Blood Bond

_alrighty. i recently uploaded 2 chappies for the Hunted sequel as well but im going to say the same thing: ive been out a while, some things happened, put me in a low place, so ive decided writing helps me alot and ive forced myself into writing again. this chapter might not be as good as past stories but im trying to get back to the place where i feel like my writing is worth something again XD. so please bear with me and please review. its been a long time, hasn't it?_

* * *

_**The Blood Bond**_

Max's fangs hadn't even made contact with his neck yet when the frustration of hunger had gotten the best of her. It took every ounce of strength not to just break his neck right then and there. His velvet life was beckoning to the young woman but her mind was battling against the beast within. She couldn't eat her best friend; yet the thirst was slowly edging its way towards victory. Nothing mattered as much anymore – her very own will losing self-control. Gibson was conflicted; trying to choose between instinct and rationale. It pained the woman, her throat exploding into overwhelming flame as more and more time passed. It was unbearable – thirst; she must satisfy the thirst.

Terry placed his hands on her shoulders, his eyes widening as Max's breath grows ragged and a maddened whine escapes from her lips – and the feeling of her tongue lacing itself up his neck. She begged forgiveness as she took the final inhale…and there was pain: rough, hard, sharp. "M-?" he tries to whisper out; but her fangs sink deeper into his frail neck and the secret vigilante begins to lose everything – his sight, his mind…

Suddenly there is a crashing sound which startles the young vampire enough for her to pull away and McGinnis slumps. Max looks up to see Chelsea towering over them; the handle of Gibson's vintage glass coffee pot, which now laid scattered about the floor, in her hands. "Chelsea?!" Max growls out as Cunningham drags Terry's body out of sight and speeds back, kneeling directly in front of her best friend. "You bitch," Gibson snarls out. "You broke my coffee pot!" The thirst however takes effect once more as she collapses face first upon the ground weakly. "You're buying me a new one," her muffled voice manages to threaten out.

"At least you're calm," Cunningham states, kneeling beside Max and placing a hand on Gibson's back in comfort, a soft chuckle on her lips. Max prepares to say something when the fire begins to burn again, causing her to scream and thrash about in pain. The Halfling cups both hands around Max's face forcing their eyes to connect: one set worried and full of concern, the other wild and lost in pain. Guess Chels talked too soon. "Look at me. The thirst is always at its peak a few minutes after the change. Just hold out and everything will be fine-!" she cuts off mid-sentence, her body stiffening and her nose flaring.

A scent. An incredibly delicious, mouthwatering aroma had reached her nostrils and annihilated the blonde beauty's train of thought. So potent, so effective - Max's thrashing stopped as she too grew still. Both females turned their heads towards the direction of the intoxicating smell, eyes tracing the floor and catching sight of the many shattered pieces of glass from the coffee spot sprawled about the apartment floor – varying in shape and size, and some crested with droplets and splatters of red. Their vibrant eyes seem to glow in thirst. Chelsea whirls her head back for Max as the newborn licked her lips hungrily. Fuck. So maybe knocking Terry unconscious by striking him with a _glass_ object _wasn't_ the best idea? "Maaaaaax, noooo," Cunningham cooed out in the warning tone of a mother stopping her child from doing something bad. But Gibson was far from sane – far from trying to reason with what was right or wrong. All there was, was the thirst, the hunger…the hunt. Her golden eyes shine in the mildly darkened room. Food. Gibson lunges for the unmoving body of her childhood friend but Chelsea intercepts the attack; grabbing Max by the shoulders and roughly shoving her back through the glass table and onto the couch. But Max regained balance and flung herself forward to continues the advance, slapping Chelsea across the face with a backhand – making the blonde crash over the kitchen countertop and burst through the top upraised kitchen cabinets; her frame driving and molded into them with a scream of pain.

Finally. Max hovers over her best friend's body, a wild mew of hunger escaping from her chest as the black newborn tries to catch her strained breath – it growing labored. Her golden eyes glow and focus, her fangs bare once more in anticipation as she picks up McGinnis's body and throws his throat for her lips before being forced from the spot and crashing into the center of the living room, Cunningham pinning her down. Max hissed out and growled, shaking her body like a wild animal as she tried to break free from Chelsea's grasp to no avail. The hold within itself was nearly unbreakable, and her lack of feeding was making her body grow weaker and weaker with each passing moment. She cried out like a ravaged child, her yell aching Chelsea's heart.

Somewhere down the street Kavin halts and his expression grows pained. "Let her feed, please," he urges in a whisper, as the two girls he had ran into on his way into the apartment complex look at him with confusion.

"What's wrong, cutie?" one of the girl's asks, pouting. She takes his arm and looks into his suddenly sorrowed eyes. He could feel her pain, her desire, her starvation. He had seen the Halfling make her way towards the apartment as he left and knew that she would wind up interfering. Kavin wasn't angry about that per say: he knew the blonde one cared deeply for his Max – and anyone who loved Max was no enemy…except for the human boy…_he_ was a problem.

Kavin looks to her and smiles, shaking his head and leading them off into the alleyway. "C'mere girls. I parked down here." Moments later their screams ringed out shrilly, only to be masked with the sound of a ferocious growl and finally die away into the darkness of the night.

Meanwhile, Chelsea grabs Max's head and looks at her. "Max! Let me help you! I'm going to help you!" Chelsea sighs out and raises her throat, taking her free hand and sliding the nail across the flesh there, slicing into the skin enough to draw a thin line of blood – enough to catch the newborn's attention. Gibson pauses her thrashing long enough to swallow.

"Chel—sea?" Max's voice strains out. "Nooooo."

"You have to eat. You'll hate yourself if you kill Terry." Chelsea narrows her brows lovingly. "It's okay."

Max raises her trembling hand, cupping it around her best girlfriend's neck. "I'm sorry…" she cries.

"It's okay." Without another word Max slams her fangs into the side of Chelsea's neck and begins to drink, gulping at first and earning a gasp from Cunningham. "Ma—Max…Not so hard…" She closes her eyes, allowing her friend to take as much of her own blood as necessary, growing happy eventually as Max's starved attack begins to slow and she simply just drink. Chelsea sighs out and lets herself melt into Max's body, Gibson's legs wrapped around her waist – she supposed in an attempt to keep her "meal" there. When a vampire drank – and drank right – it was a pleasurable experience for the one doing the feeding, and the one being fed on. The Halfling gasps out, her claws digging into the newborn's shoulder as Max continues to feed, her brown arms wrapping tight around Cunningham's neck.

It was delicious, it was life. She couldn't describe the feeling with words – only the sensation of it was enough to make Max's body crave for more. But she felt guilty. Something this good stuck with a person forever; and Max knew that eventually the taste, the need to feed, would eventually be strong enough that she would kill for it…and she knew that she would _happily_ kill for it. Blood.

After some time the drinking slows until it finally stops and Max pulls her head back, giving the wound one final lick and burying her face into her palms. Chelsea rolls off of her friend and pulls her into the blonde's embrace as Gibson wept. "I'm a monster…he made me a monster."

"Shhh, now…shhhh. It's okay. Maybe now my blood will help."

"How? How can this help? Chelsea I practically ripped your damn neck off!"

"Yeah, but now he's not the only one who has a blood bond with you. And if anything this one will be stronger…we'll be stronger."

************ When Terry reawakened he was lying in the bat cave, and had one hell of a headache. His head pounded, and his neck ached. McGinnis sat up and looked around. "Whoa…what happened?"

"Max happened," Bruce responded back, analyzing a blood sample carefully in front of a machine, averting his eyes every now and then to look at some documents.

Terry squeezed his eyelids shut and shook his head. "What? What are you talking about?" How in the hell was Max responsible for him feeling like crap? All Terry remembered was Max crying; he was trying to reassure her…or was he trying to find out why she was crying? The more he tried to remember the more it hurt.

"Max is a vampire, Terry." There was no time for coy games. Blunt was always the answer.

Terry pauses and stares at Bruce with shock only to laugh hard and nearly keel over. "Oh my God Bruce! How many water pills did you take?! Max a vampire? Be serious. I'm not an idiot."

But Wayne narrows his brows and leaves from the blood sample, ripping a taped cloth from Terry's neck and holding a small mirror up. "Then how would you like to explain this?" Terry rolls his eyes and looks into the mirror only to snatch it from the old man's hand in bafflement. "If vampires aren't real, then why did Max get attacked in the alley and not die? Why is the attacker hunting her down? Why did her wounds heal up as swiftly as they did? Why has Max's eyes gone from brown to gold? Why is her skin paled? Why does she have a more powerful sex appeal that has everyone _drooling_ and _lusting_ after her every time the girl walks down the street? Why did she constantly get hungry every time certain people walked past her? Why did she and Chelsea Cunningham become irrevocably closer? Why do you and she have the same puncture marks on your throat? I'll tell you – it's because there are vampires in Gotham, and Max was bit by one of them. Luckily for you, she didn't have you in her fangs long enough to inject her venom – or maybe she's simply too young to have developed it yet. I have a sample of her blood – and it matches that of a vampire villain I faced years ago: and I don't mean some guy who spliced himself into a wannabe bloodsucker. The DNA components are virtually the same."

McGinnis swallows and touches the puncture wound on the side of his neck and inhales slowly. "That can't be," he whispers, "possible. Vampires aren't real. It can't be possible."

Bruce scoffs and turns back for the DNA sample. "We didn't think there was life on Mars either – and look what it got the Justice League: Martian Manhunter and Miss Martian…do I even need to say where they came from? Wonder Woman's father was a Greek god. Superman is from another planet. We've fought against sorcerers and wizards." Bruce shoots the young vigilante a look. "If there's one thing you need to learn about being Batman it's that _nothing_ is impossible. If anything, whatever is impossible is more likely of being existent than that which _is_ possible…oh, and that Cunningham girl is a vampire too."

Terry prepares to dispute, raising his finger only to pause and raise a brow in thought as he mutters, "Now _that_ actually makes sense…B-but, how did I get here?!" Terry demands, leaping from the table and swerving slightly.

"I got a call from Max that you were on the roof of her apartment complex. I sent the Batcar to get you and programmed it to bring you back here. You're lucky. Max told me that Chelsea saved your life. Your best friend was about to kill you."

Terry sighs and slaps his head into the palm of his hand. It was so much to take in at once and he wasn't sure he wanted to. "So you're working on a cure?" Bruce says nothing, only remains silent and Terry can feel his heart stop. "Bruce, you ARE working on a cure right?"

"I can't cure being a vampire. It's not a disease Terry. It's an actual genetic component – it's like an actual ethic background – like being Asian or White, or having blue or brown eyes. It's not a virus invading the body."

"How is it not?!" McGinnis yells angrily. "If being bit can make someone turn then it IS a virus."

"Changing someone isn't something any vampire can do. It's like a special gift. Just as some have more heightened senses or powers than others…and God help us if Max gets powers. Dealing with you, she'll destroy Gotham faster than the Flash ran around the world." Bruce sighs out. "Arguing isn't going to get us anywhere. I'm sorry Terry but: there's nothing I can do. If I were you I'd leave Max alone for a while – now that she's fully changed, getting her body under control will take some time. Chelsea will have to keep a close eye on her – make sure she doesn't eat anybody."

Terry rolls his eyes and groans out in utter dismay. "If Chelsea is helping, Max'll become a serial killer before the next 24 hours. We're doomed…"

************ Kavin sits up from a bed and sighs, rubbing his forehead as a voice rings out from the next room. "You up, cutie?"

The elder vampire grumbles in his chest as he looks over his shoulder and gasps, the two females from a week ago walking in the room covered in blood and dragging a body with them. One of the girl's was paler than the other like creamed porcelain, her brown eyes flooding out from underneath her matching bangs and shoulder length straight hair. She had a round face and pouty lips, looking very much like a doll: Amanda, the wild one. "We brought you breakfast," her sensual voice stated out as she dropped the body at the edge of the bed. This was her loft, it was gray in color, very open and free – he kind of liked that.

"You could be a little more gentle Amanda," the second girl states with a sigh of disappointment.

"Like what? Serving it on a silver platter?"

The other girl rolls her eyes. She was a little darker than Amanda, her hair jet black and full of body, an almost elfish curl and length as it flowed down her back to the crown of her buttocks. Her silver eyes were mesmerizing – cautious, always thinking. She was the smart and creative one: Ariel. He liked her more – she reminded him a bit of the brown skinned queen he was planning to claim. She climbed in the bed and placed her hands on Kavin. "Our lover must work up the appetite first."

Kavin smirked. "And what would you do? Try to keep me from feeding? I've gone months without blood."

"Yeah, but how much longer since you've been touched by a woman?" She gently pushes him down and straddles his waist. "Amanda, are you going to join me, or shall we take turns?"

Amanda cracked her neck before climbing in the bed alongside them. "I've eaten enough for now." She squirms in delight as Kavin takes her hair and tugs on it slightly before biting into her neck and grabbing Ariel's butt roughly and rolling over, tossing both females on the bed with a growl. He didn't know why he spared them – perhaps after hearing Max's plea he was no longer in the mood to feed. But now he had these two females – although in truth they were nothing like the one woman he desired the most. But he was still a man; still had needs that needed satisfying. Might as well use the two beauties for something beneficial.

_._

_To be continued…_


	5. Chapter 5 Discovery 1

_Greetings again. I know it has been a while, but I am trying to get as much done as possible. I'm going to try to use this week to update all my stories, and try to update them as much as possible. Here is the next chapter - those of you who are members to my facebook group already know what is up - here's a little taste of Ariel and Amanda - Kavin's sexy newly changed vamp girls, and a brief insight a little more into Kavin's past._

_As always, please read and review - thank you._

* * *

_**The Deadly Discovery**_

_Part one_

Ariel sat by the fireplace of Amanda's loft, anxiously turning her head for the door every time the sound of footsteps reverberated down the hall. The silver eyed black elf haired female had not the slightest clue as to why time was even wasted on such an effort. For when he came there was always silence – never a sound; he moved as silent as the quietest whispers, swift as the breeze, never heard, always with poise and grace that seemed awkward for a man…then again he wasn't a man – none of them were human anymore.

"Where is he?" asked the brown locked counterpart who sat on the windowsill like a stealthy hawk. Amanda was always the wilder one; and always said what Ariel couldn't.

"He'll come in due time," Ariel answered back, turning again for the fire though she wasn't sure if she couldn't feel the heat or not.

"You're talking like an old lady…born back in the 18th century."

"The master has rubbed off on me I guess," Ariel answered back with a blush.

Amanda scoffed and looked further outside the window into the fall like atmosphere. Kavin had been staying here, and screwing their brains out for the past month. But last week he vanished without a word and needless to say Amanda was righteously peeved about it – Ariel righteously worried. How could he leave them behind like that? Didn't he know what he was doing to them? "I wish you wouldn't call him master – I'm no slave; besides, we are so much more than that."

Ariel sighed romantically. "Yes. So much more." Kavin loved them, he must have if he could bed them as he did, spilling their blood in the midst of it and drinking of it casually from their bodies as if they automatically belonged to him. "What was the word? Lovemate?"

"And once he gets to know us more I intend to step up to 'lifemate', don't you bestie?"

"Ofcourse. I love him. I am nothing without him and you."

"And I feel the exact same," Amanda whispered out truthfully – revealing a softer side of her that made Ariel want to be her friend in the first place. There was a flower beyond those thorns; a characteristic she'd noticed since preschool. She huffed out, having finally given up for the moment. Her eyes turn to a door beside the fire place and the wild little devil smirks as she hops off of the windowsill and walks for the grey painted portal which molded into the wall. "Well, while we wait, might as well see what our sexy little vamp is hiding back there."

But Ariel was on her feet in a flash and her silver irises widened in horror and disbelief. "No!" she cried shrilly, planting herself between the door and best friend. "Amanda we can't! You know what he said. We aren't allowed back there, I'm not trying to get on his bad side."

"Excuse me? But last I checked this was MY fucking apartment – he's just using the space. Nothing is off limits in MY home. Now move Ariel." Amanda reached her pale arm out and shoved the sophisticated opposite to the side before taking the door handle and yanking it open. She steps inside and looks around for a moment – it was dark inside and it took a moment for the vamp to feel for a light switch. Her fingers traveled the course of wall until the all too familiar nub was touched and flicked; instantly bringing light to the small office. It was neat and tidy, surrounded by candles with wax draining from them profusely – giving hint that Kavin had been burning them quite frequently. All across the room was littered paper and books, some old antique like ornaments Ariel dared not to even attempt to date.

But there was something specific hanging in the center of the room over a desk that was surrounded along the edges with small white candles: it was a picture – or more so a painting – a portrait – hell, Amanda didn't really know; artistic definitive was not her forte. But it wasn't the picture within itself that made both girls growl out – it was the subject. They knew Kavin painted; but _what_ he was painting had never truly been clear. The subject of the art was a woman – a beautiful African American woman with pink, nape of the neck, pixie cut and curled hair and bangs. Her lips were full, luscious, her eyes pure gold and staring right into their souls…or where their souls would be if the two girls believed they had one anymore. Her expression was peaceful yet somehow mixed with anger and pain – the detail he had spent on her was incredibly heart shattering. The oils blended to add a faded, ancient look to the image – foggy even; they could only imagine how extraordinary it looked in the candle light.

Amanda scowled. "And just who is this broad?"

Ariel took a step forward and looked up to the painting, almost disheartened as her mind seemed to be able to piece it all together. "She's beautiful," the raven haired vampire whispered out.

"Fuck that!" Amanda harshly retorts. "Pretty or not she's still a broad and I want to know why the fuck her Da Vinci ass is in my apartment!" But her brown eyes shifted a little to the center of the desk – and found a leather bound notebook – obviously old, and from the look of it had paper added to the binding somehow. Clever old vampire. "Is this a diary?"

"Probably a journal…"

"Same damn difference Ariel, don't be a dreg." Amanda picked it up and flashed to the last few pages. But her hands were shaking excitedly and she tossed the notebook to Ariel instead. "You do it."

"Ever heard of 'please', bitch?" Ariel snapped back, griming as Amanda smirked. Just as the brown manned violent female had a soft spot, the generally peaceful and well calculated young lady could have her crude moments – and Amanda liked to see that. Ariel rolled her eyes and took up the leather journal and began to read through a page:

"_April 17, 1867_

_ Today the order was given, and the resistance fled from us. The humans had no idea what horrors awaited them when they snuck into the sewers, chasing after my kind like we were foul beasts for the kill. I watched as Kaliir, my dear friend made a rush forward; striking down the second in command as I took down the human leader…."_

Ariel's eyes read through the rest mentally before skipping ahead to the next page; ignoring Amanda's protest of wanting to hear the juicy details of death and murder.

"_Kaliir departed today with Sicily, his beloved lifemate. Now that the battle was over – and the humans thrown into their place – I suspect all will be safe for our kind. We shall slink back into the shadows, unheard, unseen – until we claim our prey."_

Amanda snorted. "Filthy humans." Ariel rolled her eyes and pressed on, flipping some many pages ahead:

"_August 19, 1995_

_ Cassius nearly caught me today. He is still vengeful, and blames me for what happened to Mirana, his beloved sister who now sleeps in eternal slumber alongside Lucifer himself. It was not my fault, and I say again, it was not my fault. It was not my child – and Mirana knew that all too well. Why did she do it? Was it in hopes of forcing me to be by her side forever? Would a child make that much of a difference? THAT is a move for humans, not of our kind; and shows only how desperate she must have been. How I pity her. The whelp was not mine. Though I am sad that it perished by the hands of humans, and sad even more that Mirana, out of grief of losing the child – and in turn losing her chance at having me alongside her forever – threw herself into the fires of the sun – when she was not immune to the solar death like so few of us are._

_ Cassius has sworn to cause me pain, if not kill me for bringing such a horrid fate to his sister. I did not think he was serious, I had hoped time would heal that wound – but three hundred years later the wound festers and grows worse. Is love such an impossibility? I have yet to find it – to desire it. To crave love is for the weak; to have love is for the strong. Perhaps I am neither."_

"Sounds like this Mirana girl was quite infatuated with him," Ariel debates.

"Forcing a child though? She deserved to die."

"Would we do any different if faced with losing Kavin?" the calm one questions softly, and noting that in Amanda's silence there was agreement. Ariel flips further, to the more recent pages.

_"I can not believe it, it scarcely seems possible and yet I have felt it myself. For thousands of years I have stalked, walked, and hunted and thrived amongst these lands, this dreadful earth, and when Cassius had finally found me, and put me near the end I was ready for it – until _she_ came. She – a ray of moonlight that I could thrive within, a scorching sun in which our televised versions would writhe and squirm, burn and scream in agony…she was a gem surrounded by coal, a princess cast away into deserted exile; and I had to have her. How could I refuse it? Deny it?_

_ The mere look in her eyes, those pretty brown eyes, had caught me in a vice. She was to be dinner – and became more. The scent that she carried drove me made with lust and thirst – but the taste of her blood was one all too recognizable. She was me. And I her. The pain and anguish was all too similar to my own. But her will, her fiery ambition and ferociousness – her protective and ever loving mindset had me caught in a whirlwind. So I changed her into an Egyptian Queen – but not even I was prepared for the sheer force and evolution of an already perfect and mind boggling creature! She became more, greater – an Empress and I her slave. My desire to claim her grew. For she is more than an incomparable beauty: her heartbeat resounds within me – even now though it is dead. She lays tied down by a mere mortal man whom doesn't even know what angel he has under his wing. He is a threat – one to be rid of – but then she would hate me for killing him. Is it a risk worth taking? Would it matter? _

_She is mine; and mine alone. There is no other greater than she. I will make her mine – tie her down if need be. Maxine…Max. She is all I've ever wanted – all I can ever have."_

The journal dropped to the floor as Ariel's hands released it. Amanda's shoulders stiffened and a growl reverberated loudly in her throat. Ariel turned to her friend, eyes full of rage and anger. They grumbled and hissed, moaned and shivered in agitation as the wails grew from quieted whispers to agonizing hatred filled squeals and screams that seemed to echo through the air like nails screeching against a chalkboard. They were nothing to him?! NOTHING!

Ariel hunched over as the squeals grew louder, the neighbors looking about in curiosity as to what such a horrendous sound could be – for it obviously wasn't human. The sky began to turn grey in a moderate overcast and the cries of the two vampires added an eerie lure to the world outside. Within a flash, the journal was back on the table, the lights off, the door closed, and the two vampire females gone from the apartment all together. They were on the hunt – prowling and whizzing through the shadows undetected. They would find this Max – find her and reclaim Kavin. There would be no competition – he could not love her if she was dead! There was only one way to make him theirs for the taking…and that was to kill the brown beauty who stole his heart.

_To be continued…_


	6. Chapter 6 Discovery 2

_I am sorry. 1. i am sorry for taking so long to post a new chapter. 2.. i'm sorry that this has to probably be the worse chapter i have ever typed. :( my previous chapter about Amanda and Ariel seemed to be really good. honestly. i was tired and just wanted to put up something - so i just came with anthing. it has been a long time, and i promise to try to do better. this jumps around a lot, and the fight scene probably could have been better. but i will do my very best to improve. it has been so long since ive written. anyways, hopefully next chapter we get to see a little Matt/Max connecting or watever the hell comes to me... :( ugh, im so utterly depressed about this chapter...uuuuggghhh_

* * *

_**The Deadly Discovery**_

_Part two_

A couple of days earlier: "What is he doing down here, Bruce?" Terry scowled as he caught sight of his double standing beside Wayne, looking up at the large computer screen. "I told you, I don't want him involved in this."

Bruce continues to stare at the computer screen before answering, "It's your fault he found out about this place to begin with – he might as well make himself more useful."

McGinnis growled a little as he rolled his eyes at the young man before him…at Matt; his daring little brother. Matt was now 15 and a freshman at Hamilton Hill – his raven black hair tied back in a short shoulder length ponytail and dark eyes willingly taking note of every little thing that occurred within the cave. A year ago he'd followed Terry to "work" at Wayne's and wound up discovering the cave. It was like another "Terry escapade" all over again. Under Bruce's wing Matt had grown stronger, mature…mentally and physically. Even though the younger brother was only fifteen he looked like he could pass for twenty and the girl's loved his buff bod. Since Terry denied Wayne the possibility of making Maxine Batman's sidekick, Matt wound up taking the role of Robin instead – much to Terry's dismay.

"Dad and I were searching the data system to see if the computer could find a match on Max's attacker." Right, and Matt also knew that Bruce was "father" and Max was "vampire". Oh happy day.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" Terry scoffs.

"It's Saturday," Matt sasses back.

"Sport's practice then?"

"I'm a freshman. Besides, this is much cooler." Matt smiles but his face grows serious when the computer flashes, causing all three men to gather around. The attacker's face pops up on the screen – followed almost instantly by a couple of other photos and paintings. "Just how old is this guy?" Matt questions in awe. His image looked ancient and so 14th century, wearing a duke's outfit and hair long and flowing as he stood behind some royal delegate. According to what they could find, their assailant had been alive since the 1800's – perhaps longer. But even this newly gathered information wasn't enough to really allow them to grow comfortable; there was still no indication of what this vampire wanted other than Max…and what he would do in order to obtain it.

In the meantime, there was a lot of things left to be done in Gotham; and the presence of vampires needless to say brought an air of…tension to the cave. The men were more alike than they cared to admit: all stubborn, and strong willed, and all loving Max (though Bruce tended to keep his trap shut about it, it was obvious that he was worried). Day in and day out they worked and searched – eventually coming to the grim discovery that very much like the Jokerz and T's and even the splicers, that the vampires had their own little group – a den…a nest…a coven. Matt had been the one to realize this late one night as he had been on patrol. Oh yeah, the fifteen year old hunk was officially in the vigilante business. He wore a suit very much similar to Nightwing's - the only difference being the strong black rubber-like plating on the shoulders, elbows, and knees. It was dark red in color all over – burgundy if you would, with a black bird emblem on the chest of it, a simple cowl protecting his identity. No capes, no skin tights. He was rugged, and lithe and strong: and his suit accented that. Naturally Bruce added a few technological enhancements as he had done with Terrence's Bat-suit in order to keep "Robin" safe from the powerful weapons of this future world. Shway.

On this night, the sky was dark and drenching in an incomparable rain fall as Robin clung to the balcony banister, feet planted on the metallic bar and palms wrapped around it securely between his legs (taking on the appearance of a human spider more than a bird) looking silently and stealthily inside the Administrator's office within the Wayne Medical Facility. It was dimly lit, but he could make out the people leaving from the building in small floods until the area was practically empty. The glass door was open, and he couldn't help himself from leaning in a little to get a better view. There she sat in her chair sorting through the pile of documents on her desk so thoroughly. She was beautiful.

Matt had always thought so. Max was his babysitter those seven and plus years ago when she was still in high school; but she was also a friend. When no one else was around to play or spend time with him or hear the young kid's stories – she did. When he fell asleep early and was jolted awake with a nightmare – Max was the one to comfort and ease him. When the child was feeling lonely whether involving school, or the lack of time he seemed to spend with his mother or brother – or the fact that the father he'd known for so long was now dead – Max would be there to support him. She was a sister, a confidant, a friend. Something he hadn't had in a really long time. And as the years passed they hung out more outside of the home and everything between them was fairly comfortable. It was almost like he was the "Terry" she had never had.

In truth the little McGinnis wasn't quite so sure about his childhood anymore. Toys were meaningless without a family. And everything took a turn for the worse when Mary decided it was time to get back in the dating game. Robin scowled a little. Jacob…Jacob Richardson. Needless to say neither brothers liked him. He was kind to their mother, sure, but he was cocky and rude sometimes since he was a prominent business man who owned his own computer manufacturing company which was partnered with – and here was the kicker! – Wayne Powers. Oh joy! Jacob has been in their lives for about a good three and a half years now and as time passed things got more and more serious between him and Mary. Marriage was not far down the road and the last thing Matt wanted was to wake in the middle of the night hearing his mother confirming her union to Richardson. He'd heard those sounds enough! So the boy had spent a year living with Max – but he went to live with Terry after that. Matt was finding it harder and harder to keep his feelings bottled when around Max when they lived together; so he assumed that the move was more than likely for the best.

Max sighed and rose from her chair having finally finished her sorting and stretched before placing her hands under the rim of her white button top and starting to pull the fabric up over her head, exposing her lovely brown back and straps to the black lace bra. Robin swallowed and felt his groin tighten a little; but Max stopped and hissed and suddenly, swiftly, reached and grabbed hold of a chair and tossed it through the open passageway, hearing the word, "SHIT!" followed by the sound of the chair crashing against metal below. Robin turns off his camouflage and looks inside the office with bafflement, blushing as Gibson immediately throws her top back on and growls. "DAMNIT ROBIN! I SHOULD RIP YOUR THROAT OUT!"

"That'd be incredibly rude," the vigilante offers before stepping into the office with a sigh. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

Max raised her brow initially but rolled her eyes and picked up her suitcase; body losing its previous tension. "Just what the heck were you doing anyway?"

"Watching you," Robin admitted.

"So I see. But why?"

"Too many questions. I'm the detective, remember?" The teenager took another step forward and sat on the desk, continuing to let his gaze trail over her seductive body – trying not to reach out when she bent over. God those wide hips looked delicious. "I just wanted to offer some information; here." Robin pulls out a small round disc out of his utility belt and eased it into her fingertips; gauging her baffled yet expectant look. "It's not much, but we believe it to be a little bit of documented facts regarding your attacker. Apparently he's been around a while. Your girlfriend might have some intel on him too."

"Thanks." Max looked at the disc in her hands, staring at it for quite some time when she felt a set of comforting arms wrap around her shoulders. Her golden irises stare into the whitened pupils of the cowl in shock, palms resting against his chest in an attempt to push them apart. "Robin you shouldn't. I still don't have control over my thirst."

"I trust you." It was a fact – the tone letting them both know the truth behind those three little words. Robin buried his face into her neck – taking in his friend's perfect scent and found his arms tightening. "I miss you Max."

"Oh sweetie…"

"Really…I miss you…" He pulls back and looks into her face. If only she could see the look behind his cowl right now. So desiring yet so conflicting. He wanted to show her – he'd take her right now if need be: right here. But he couldn't. And the voice of Bruce Wayne in his earpiece confirmed it.

"McGinnis…" Bruce warns.

"Focus," comes another voice from the balcony. Robin turns and frowns tightly as he watches Batman slink inside and grab the boy's arm, pulling him away from Gibson. "I sent you here to guard her while I handled a situation on the east side."

"I am guarding her," Robin fires back. The tension in the room immediately escalated now that Batman was here; both heroes ensuing in a dirty stare down. Matt knew that his brother more than likely had feelings for Gibson as well; and knew that Terry probably knew how the youngest brother felt too. But Matt didn't care about that: the way he saw it, he'd willingly fight for her – and blamed the older brother for not being able to protect their beloved pink haired bad ass from her current dilemma.

"How can you protect someone? Anyone could have snuck up behind you. This isn't some petty Joker we're dealing with here Robin. Use your head."

Use his head?! Just what the hell did Batman think? That Robin saw this situation as a simple cat stuck in a tree call? If anyone understood the severity of this it was Robin! Enough was getting to be enough. "Ohhh so you get bit by Max once and that suddenly makes you a vampire expert? Please, get out of my face with that. You're not the only person who cares about Max – I'm perfectly capable of protecting her."

"And just what the hell makes you capable?!"

"Because she's my best friend! I love her!"

Silence envelops the room for a long time when Batman finally takes an aggressive step forward. "What did you say?" Love her huh? It was obvious the kind of "love" Robin was indicating and that kind of emotion was not unacceptable – it was completely forbidden. Sibling rivalry was leaping to a whole new dangerous level now that both brothers were on the same team…now that they both had something important they wanted to protect.

"Alright," Max interrupts, making her way between the boys and shoving them apart. "That's enough. Batman, out! You too Robin. I'm more than able to take care of myself! I'm sick of being treated like a child! You two are brothers. You aren't the enemy okay? Stop it."

"I'm not leaving you alone Max," Batman disputes.

"I'm not going to argue with you, Batboy."

"Because there's nothing to argue about!" Batman turned back for the balcony finally after giving his brother a warning glance and disappeared into the night sky; leaving Robin behind, trembling with frustration – calmed only by the sensation of Max's cool hand wrapping around his hand.

****** Max strolled silently at the park, wearing a pair of blue jean shorts and grey off the shoulder t-shirt and grey high top gym shoes, watching the sun standing in the evening sky uncomfortably. It was a quiet and calm afternoon, the more popular areas of the park laced with pockets of people which were crowded more than others. Families nestled and played amongst one another as friends chatted. It was almost as if the world was oblivious to the true turmoil around about them; that or they simply refused to face it. Max hated pretending; hated acting as if nothing was wrong. Look at her! She herself was a very indication of the horror of the world. Her entire life turned upside down at the drop of a hat simply because she went into an alleyway late one night to help someone whom she thought deserved and needed it.

This life…well it frightened her. Max may never have admitted it out loud but in the back of her mind there felt like millions of thoughts rushing through her brain all at once and so fast she couldn't keep up. Terry wasn't making things any simpler, naturally; and because of that Matt was locked up in an emotional shell. Max swallowed uncomfortably as a couple jogged past them – her throat beginning to burn hungrily as her eyes began to glow a little. It had been a week since she'd fed last. Chelsea had made it a thing of only giving Max animal blood to feed off of; of course it wasn't anywhere near as satisfying as the life which flowed within human veins and resisting was becoming more and more impossible to do. They were completely alone on this side of the park. Maybe…maybe just this once?

Gibson turns, her pace beginning to quicken for the humans as her fangs parted and her hand outstretched for a shoulder. There is a sound to her left and Max stops dead in her tracks, allowing the meal to continue on without a clue in the world as the sound of whispered voices low enough only for her ears to hear begins to resound around about her. The sounds were annoying her – making her edgy as she tensed and growled a little – watching with expectancy as two girls finally step out of the brush, covering in raindrops and looking wild and angry. It was obvious just from the scent from them that they were the same as she was…pissed too. "Who are you?" Max demands, taking a step back and crouching as the two females approached.

The brown haired one cocks her head. "It's you – isn't it? Max…the little bitch who stole my man."

"Bitch?" Max returned with a snarl. "I'm single trick. Get your facts straight."

The black haired one makes a strange turn, causing her to head straight for Gibson's side. "Liar. Kavin is in love with you."

"You mean the idiot who changed me? You can have him!"

The girls move their fingers, etching them for the ready as Max came to terms that this wasn't going to go in her favor. So she did the only thing she knew to do at a moment like this: run. Max wheeled and dashed with incomprehensible speed off the path and through the foliage as the girls give a maddened squeal and race right after her. Max pushed her every muscle – but they were closing in: every now and then she would make swift turns and feel the breeze of their claws just missing the skin of her neck and arms. They weren't giving up. Why was this happening? Since when was her _attack_ the exception for an unprecedented bout of vengeance?

Something strikes her calve and Max stumbles, falling out of the foliage and into a preserved little grassland with a palm nearby. The brown beauty croons and slowly tries to make her way to her feet as the other females slowly exit; growls reverberating through their chests. The brown haired one paces – a bit more anxious than the opposite as she states, "Let's kill her now Ariel. Then Kavin will be ours forever!"

So this was all about Kavin huh? That bloodsucking son of a bitch. He just couldn't keep his fangs in his mouth, could he? Time for plan B. Max huffs and chuckles dryly. "Yours? Please! Sounds like the only thing he wants from you is the ice between your legs. And it obviously isn't _that_ good if he still wants me!"

They scream, enraged, wrathful and charge. But now Max was ready. As the girl named Ariel approached Max ducked and grabbed her arm before flinging the assailant straight for her counterpart; smiling in pleasure as they crashed together. Gibson was on her feet now, and danced around about them. "I don't want your piece of trash vampire! But if you're so insistent on someone dying then so be it!" Ariel and Amanda rise and make another go at it, but this time together. Clever wenches. But Max's fighting skills tied with her new superhuman abilities only made her all the greater the opponent. Each blow she dodged, delivering her own as the femme fatale kicked Ariel back, and stabbed her claws right through Amanda's (the brown hair's) chest – satisfied at her scream of anguish. Amanda snapped her jaws at Max, who merely ripped into her neck with deadly, hungry fangs. But not even the blood of a fellow vampire could completely satisfy her.

Ariel laid on the ground, favoring her broken arm with cries and sounds of weeping as Amanda sliced Max's cheek, shoving the brown beauty back and into the water behind. "You bitch!" Amanda yelled. "I'll find everything you love and kill it!" She didn't expect what happened next. Not in the least bit. The water suddenly churned in anger, and then exploded forth into the air as a powerful rush of air slammed into the girl's. Max stepped up from the waterbed, her fingers arched and eyes full of something incredibly fierce and terrifying. What was happening? Her body didn't even seem to comprehend or understand what was going on until it was all too late. The tree branches broke off from their perches and flew around about the air in a maddened rage. "I'll kill everything you love!" Amanda threatened again. But the air was pierced with her squeal of sharp pain. The water fell – the wind died. Ariel's eyes widened in horror. Amanda blinked and looked down slowly to the jagged tree branch which was resting clean through her heart. The look of confusion was apparent on the female's features as she quietly coughed and blood dripped from her chin. "Ariel?" she managed to whisper before looking again for Max. "You…bitch…" And within that moment her body greyed until it turned to dust, and crumbled into grains of sand and burning fire.

It was in that very event that Ariel lost everything – her hope, her sanity. Amanda was dead…dead…Ariel's calm disposition was now completely vanished and replaced with utter hate. "I'll kill you," Ariel declared. "You'll pay for this." She stood, and backed away into the foliage as Max felt her world turn upside down and grow black.

****** Chelsea sighed and patted Max's sleeping forehead before gathering her things and leaving the bedroom. Matt looked up from the living room couch and watched Chelsea leave before heading back to be with Maxine; sitting in the chair at the bedside. It was Robin who had found her laying unconscious in the park – and he called everyone he thought should know. According to Cunningham it was just as she feared: Max was a Riqur: an ancient group of vampires who were far more powerful than the rest.

Riqurs were often the leaders of their kind – the ancient ones that the others bowed down to. Riqurs held powers – any power to be exact: some of which were simple like reading minds or incredible speed – others, more sophisticated and deadly, such as manipulating fire or even telepathy, an even rarer gift. Some Riqurs were born into vampire families…some were created. Max, was one of those. "This could be a problem," she had said. "If the coven finds out…" But that was all Chelsea said on the matter. According to Cunningham many of the vampires were solitary and did not particularly adhere to coven law or rules…but the coven still existed nonetheless – and was still a symbol of their power.

Matt touched her hand, closing his eyes to rest for just a few minutes. It was late, well after midnight now, and he was tired. But when he opened his eyes again the boy was shocked to find Max awoke and looking right at him. "Hey," he began softly. "You're awake."

"Mmhmm." She answered back in a barely audible whisper. "What-?"

"It's okay. You're safe now."

"But…are you?" Max never averts her gaze from his as he stiffens a little – not sure exactly by what she meant. Max narrows her brows. "Are you safe…from me?"

_To be continued…_


	7. Chapter 7 The Coven

_YES! I feel SOOOOOOOOOOO much better about this new chapter! I think you all will like this one better. Meet the Coven - or at least a couple of key characters within the coven. i also explain here a little bit as to why some vampires are able to walk in daylight. and to those of you who have been messaging me as to why: no, its not because they have diamond skin. get it?! -_- yeah i know, my sense of humor is horrible. anyways i think im getting back into the swing of things!_

_now, in response to the guest who posted a review for chapter 3: you asked a question as a guest, which means i cant answer it anyway other than this so please dont get offended, i'm not putting you on blast: the answer to your question is simply within chapter 3 itself: Chelsea is a vampire. It's only natural for Vampires to want to connect with each other. plus, Dana isnt even in this story. When i watched Batman Beyond I saw Chelsea as being better friends with Max than Dana was. Chelsea and Max are kinda similar when you think about it. Max and Dana are friends, but in my fics, i like to make Chelsea the BEST friend because i think they're more alike. so the answer to your question is: Max is relying on Chelsea because Chelsea is ALSO a vampire; she can help keep Max under control too; and i made Chelsea a vampire because i tink Chelsea rocks! :D thank you for reading and for reviewing! and if anyone else has any questions i'll answer them (but please note if you ask under "guest" the only way to answer your question will be in my next author commentary.)_

_**The Coven**_

A hooded figure walked along the outskirts of neo-Gotham until it came to the edge of the modern city, crossing the dead lands before arriving into the cracked and worn grounds of Gotham's Historic District – the beautiful city that Gotham once used to be. A world full of creative innocence, elegant building structures that held an air of class about them that seemed so far from this current world they lived in. It seemed that as the years, the centuries passed, then although the technological advancements continued to rise, the glory of mankind wasted away. He should know. He's lived longer than most – saw the world in the time of true beauty: Victorian beauty.

It was sad to see these buildings so desecrated and left to wither within the cold winds. But where one life moved on from what they considered dead, another took hold of it; made it their own. Renewed it as much as they dared to do. His hazel eyes searched the ragged grounds, sifting through the tall grass before arriving at the old Gotham Train Station, pushing open the darkened doors and stepping inside the dim interior. After making it past the first check in point he found a couple of guards donning all black apparel. He gave them a mere look, and smirked as they bowed their heads in respect; allowing him entry with no problem at all. They could tell just from his scent that he was of the elders – one to be obeyed. But he did not bask in his age as so many others of their kind did; did not summon others to follow or do his bidding. He was a wanderer – making no place truly his own.

The further he went, the darker it became. Natural sunlight was gone from the building now, the only signs of illumination being the burning candles and small pillars of glowing flames. But in the lack of sunlight there was civilization and life. Once coffee shops, souvenir retailers were now overflowing with candle light and tapestry – a pleasant aromatic perfume scent dancing throughout the air as people lounged on couches and chef lounges, as they passed by conversing with one another as if they were mere shoppers in the main world. Eyes would befall him as he passed, loud talking turning into whispers before regaining their original conversation. He rounded a bend and came to a stairway, lightly jogging up it expectantly. Atop the staircase laid a large room – a ballroom…a throne room. The eyes and guards stopped their original tasks and focused. The protectors ready to defend the man sitting in the grand chair that laid in front of a large painting of a evening sky and field. The visitor pulled back his hood, and the man sitting on the throne clasped his hands together and smiled. "Ahhh, Kavin! My dear, Kavin!"

Kavin smiled and approached the throne, extending forth his hand in greeting. The leader was pale like them all, and thin but lithe. His cheek bones were strong, his silver eyes glistening brightly as his long nails brushed against Kavin's palms. Flowing silver-blonde hair smoothly sleeked down and around about his face before coming to a smooth halt at his shoulder bone. He wore a large robe made of fine silk, laced with intricate designs that declared his royal heritage. His clothes were perfect, and far older than this century as he sat as a king. "Hello again Chezarey…my dear brother."

Chezarey smiled politely and stood, pulling Kavin into an embrace and kissing his cheek. "Look at you little brother! You haven't aged a day."

"I wish I could say the same for you," Kavin responded out of concern more than humorous teasing.

Chezarey's grin melted a little as he sighed and touched his cheek. "Yes well, the Coven is…draining. We give our lives, to sustain the many others who follow us...though times, and covens, is not how they used to be. But, dear brother, I'm sure that is not why you have come. And I'm even surer that I know the reason." Kavin raises a brow and Chezarey takes his seat once again, waving his hands which causes the guards to relax. "You come to me, concerning the beautiful newborn which has so gracefully intrigued us all."

All eyes immediately focus on them then, and many more bodies come up the steps to gather around. Two elders in the same room was something even the most ignorant of vampires had to respect and witness. Kavin didn't particularly like the attention – because he knew that it would mean more focus being put on Max. But if anyone needed to hear his pleas regarding her then Chezarey was the one. Chezarey was Kavin's older brother. They had an age difference of about a good thousand years plus. They were both elders – having been born long long ago, thousands of years ago, before even the rule of Caesar in Rome, maybe even before the rule of Cleopatra in Egypt; their ages were unknown, and neither brother liked to discuss it. No one pressed.

However, from the time Kavin was small it was apparent that Chezarey was his guardian. Their parents died, and they had nothing but each other. They ruled many a coven – but often times left them after so long. For Kavin, staying in one place for too long meant death, meant pain and suffering. For Chezarey, it meant power. That was where the two were so different. Chezarey was loyal to the needs of their people; Kavin was rootless, and usually didn't stick around long enough to care. He only had two true friends in his life: Kaliir and Sicily - vampire rulers of the entirety of Hawaii. They were the only true exception. The younger brother swallows and Chezarey chuckles. "What's this? Is my rootless brother actually finding a reason to bury deep into these lands?" Chazerey was a Riqur – his power was simple yet profound. He could see into the future – not clearly: but small fuzzy pockets were generally all he needed.

"Brother," Kavin begins slowly. "This new vampire…I changed her."

"As I foresaw," Chezarey agreed, resting his cheek against his upraised knuckles. "Changing, just like walking in the daylight, isn't a gift we all possess dear brother; and it is one that is rarely used, surprisingly. I have seen you would change a human – but as to 'why' is still left far from my understanding." The eyes seem to stare harder.

"I…I wanted her. She had something within her that screamed for me. But when she changed…she became something greater than a changling. Brother, she has the blood of royals. It is almost as if she is pure born!"

"She is a Riqur."

Now THAT was new news for Kavin. "You saw this?" he questions with a raised eyebrow.

"I did not have to. Jexi saw it." A woman steps out from a wall in the far side of the room and crosses over the floorway with such elegance it was almost as if she were floating. She wore a long flowing medieval styled pale green gown, her sun gold hair dancing in lovely curls down to the crown of her bottom, her glowing green eyes causing those around them to exhale in awe. Max was more beautiful, Kavin thought quietly. Kavin nodded at her as the female sat on the small steps at the foot of Chezarey, a hand wrapped around his calve as he reached down and lovingly brushed his fingertips against her cheek. This was Jexi – lifemate, long lifemate, to Chezarey. She was originally from a medieval Denmark those many years ago, where the people saw her family as fallen Norse gods. Chezarey found her, and took her from her pure blooded family in marriage. They had been together since Kavin was in his early forties. "Jexi was out leading a hunting party when she saw a battle take place. She is one of the few in this Coven who is able to withstand the daylight."

This was truth. Not all vampires writhed and burned in the daylight. There was only one way to withstand the rays of the sun: the blood of a Virgin. The story was an old one, but known well amongst their race. Xerzes, the ancient Vampire King – the first of their kind, discovered this fact those eons ago. Xerzes was strong, powerful – his dark hair that of tar, his red eyes like that of fire. A strong willed Emperor whom kept his kind, as few as they were, safe from danger. There were very little vampires in the world at that time; all dwelling in a land called Thaisdan – a land which no human had ever step foot until nearly a millennia. There had been a battle, a fierce one between the humans and vampires. Xerzes had been wounded, and the sun was rising. But a young girl with skin as brown as the beach sand, stumbled upon him lying in the bloodstained grass of the plain where he had managed to crawl to – he had been trying to make it to a dark cave within the nearby forest but his strength was failing him.

The human girl was still young, only in her early teens, but she was entranced by this creature who smoked as the rising sunlight began to kiss his flesh. She knew what he was, and pitied him. "_Here my lord,_" she had whispered in a long forgotten language, kneeling and offering her neck. Xerzes could not understand why this weak little human thing would be willing to offer herself unto him, but he took of her flesh and drank of her blood, leaving her barely alive when he noticed: the sun was up fully, yet he did not burn! Xerzes was forever grateful to the human, and took her body, nursed it back to health within the walls of Thaisdan, and changed her into an immortal, and made her his forever.

For a time, vampires sought out virgin humans, and killed them, drinking of their blood…and it made them immune to the sun. Children birthed from vampires who drank virgin blood were born with the ability to withstand daylight. And if a human virgin was "changed" then they would be "daywalkers" when they reawakened. But as time passed it seemed to become more of a myth amongst the immortals than fact. Yet the elders knew the truth.

Jexi was born a daywalker from her parents; so she led a small handful of others like herself out every so often into the human world to feed and bring food back home for the few who lived within the Coven walls. Blood was not frequently necessary – and the vampires could go months without a meal; it was typically the changlings whom ravaged and fed greedily. Though Chezarey and Kavin were of pure blood – that ability (the gift of daywalking) was solely given to only one of the brothers – the brother who claimed it. Kavin drank of Virgin blood when he was still young. Chezarey refused to accomplish such a deed, stating that he would be a pure vampire forever: be the creature of the night as nature designed them to be. And for Max to be able to withstand the sun must have meant that she was a virgin when Kavin bit her. He wondered what the story was with her Halfling friend.

"A battle?!" Kavin questions in response to Chezarey's lifemate's words.

Jexi looks to Kavin and explains in a voice as sweet as sugar, and as soft as the spring wind, "Three females. The one who is yours, the Egyptian. And the two who were yours, the changlings." In Jexi's time, all blacks who were of a certain skin tone were known as Egyptians. Jexi loved Egyptians, and was all but depressed when Chezarey's rule as a Pharaoh had been cut short. How she missed those sands!

"The two?" Kavin groaned then in realization. "Ariel and Amanda."

"They hunted down your beautiful Egyptian and tried to end her life, but failed…one failed at the cost of her life. The newborn is a psychokinetic. She killed the brown hair that attacked her. Her powers are extraordinary – I have not seen such mental strength in all my years," Jexi adds in awe and pride.

"Amanda…" Kavin sighed, attempting to play down the apparent sophisticated strength that Jexi claimed Maxine was in possession of. "They must have found out."

"The Egyptian fell out - such a level of strength used at once without training must have worn her. It was my intention to bring her here to recover, but the accomplice to the Batman came and carried her off. Where, I do not know." Jexi raised a brow. "Kavin, brother, you do not seem grieved at your loss."

Kavin shrugged and Jexi frowned. "They are not my mates: I simply…needed my desires fulfilled. Desires which not even blood could have sustained – nor the frailness of the human body. Amanda was wild and brash – I knew her death would come soon enough."

"That is a horrid abuse of your gift, Kavin," Jexi growled, turning her eyes from him, causing Chezarey to run his fingers through her hair in comfort. Jexi was against the turning of humans for menial reasons. They were often times far too out of hand once changed – which meant they did not know the ways…which meant she was usually the one to make them learn; or erase their foolish ways altogether. How she despised senseless murder.

"In any event, bringing her here would have been a bad idea. She…doesn't care for me that much. She is frightened."

Chezarey smiles hopefully. "We can teach her."

"It is not that simple. She has a Halfling friend who is softening her. But as far as I go – I'm a heartless monster. And then…there is _another_: a human," he sneers wrathfully at the mention of her human male companion. The voices rise as the gathered ones whisper amongst one another.

Chezarey clears his throat and the room grows silent again. "Kavin, I want to meet her. I will give you time; but a new vampire of her bloodline, of her Riqur abilities, MUST be introduced to as many of us as possible. You are not the only one interested in her heart. She will make an excellent addition to the Coven."

"She will not join the Coven," the younger brother states matter-of-factly.

"Not join? But we can offer her freedom, protection. There is a war brewing brother. There are pockets of vampires to the west who mount together – who wish to dethrone me; who wish to claim this country and rule as they so desire. I will NOT be dethroned. I only ask her to join us; to join this fight."

"I will not have my mate killed in your war!" Kavin yells, and the train station seems to grow eerily still. Chezarey is appalled not only at his brother's sudden anger, but at the possible root of it. Kavin was never one for romance and yet to hear the other cry out the word "mate" with such a vicious air of defensiveness was, well, baffling. The leader didn't know whether to be overjoyed or concerned. Kavin takes a step back before adding, "There are plenty of vampires who have not joined your precious Coven. Leave her be, Chezarey. You are my brother." It was a warning: one that simply said he did not want to fight his brother – but _would_ if need be. A couple of the gathered vamps hiss at the threat, but Kavin ignores them and turns to take his leave, jogging down the steps and out of the building far from sight.

Jexi looks up to her longtime lifemate and searches for something in his eyes. "Beloved…"

"No worries my love. This isn't the end."

"You have been here a long time Chezarey. Perhaps now is the time to-?" But she doesn't get to finish her sentence; for the look he gave her was cold and dark and angry. He had never looked at her like that before and Jexi didn't know if her emotions should be angry, hurt, or afraid. The beautiful blonde closes her lips softly and looks to the ground, saying no more. He was being so…arrogant. So power hungry. But she would not speak on it now. He was always in a foulest of moods after an argument with Kavin. For now, she would be silent and observant…patient.

But patience was far from the thoughts of Kavin's mind. He truly needed to get Max to understand now: so much trouble could be coming their way from his elder brother; and the old brown haired vampire was sure that Ariel had vengeance prominent in her mind at the loss of her dear friend, Amanda, at the hands of Max – the woman whom she probably saw as the one who was taking her mate away. He should have stayed with them instead of searching for where the Coven was. Perhaps this was a bad idea? Scratch that: this most definitely had been a bad idea – there were no doubts about that. Chezarey had been ruling Gotham the past two hundred years – all current vampires here were descendants of the followers who joined him on his travels. But the population had grown immensely; and there were others who felt it was time to stop living underneath, hiding from the humans – and rise up! Let the humans cower from _them_! Humans were, after all, merely food. But for Chezarey to be so set on having Max join the Coven when Covens were virtually unnecessary in this day and age only proved that war may have been coming after all. And if Max was as powerful as Jexi made it seem, then Chezarey would want her to fight for him…to protect his seat of power. And Kavin knew how desperate and selfish his brother could at times be. There was danger on the winds.

_To be continued…_


	8. Chapter 8 For Blood pt 1

_Just a lil something i threw together for you guys. Many of you already know about the accident i was in: recovery's looking good and in my spare time i will try to make up for lost time with the stories here. I dont like this chapter - kinda feels like a filler to me...maybe next chapter we'll get Kavin to kidnap Max? Sound good? lol here ya go!_

* * *

_**For Blood**_

"Are you safe…from me?" Max questioned Matt McGinnis as he sat there beside the bed holding her hand. She could feel the sudden tension is his body at the words she asked him; could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand with deadly anticipation. She looked into his dark eyes, serious, waiting for an answer although it was highly doubtful that the young Robin would even give one.

Matt lowered his eyes and took a deep breath. "I," he whispered, "trust you."

"A lot of people had trust and died anyway, Matt. Trust is just a word, just another definition of weakness." Max squeezed his hand gently and closed her eyes, trying to focus on the sound of something other than his heartbeat. "What's wrong with me Matt? What am I? Why is this happening to me?"

"It's going to be okay," he comforted with a smile as she sat up and cradled her forehead. "It's just a bump."

"Well somebody needs to repave the damn road!" Gibson snarls out before shaking her head and allowing the room to grow silent. Nothing was making any sense at all. It was bad enough that she was turned into a monster but NOW she had powers? If it weren't for the fact that she was officially a detrimental weapon then she'd be in Terry's face about how her vigilantism would be much better than his. Would serve him right!

And what was worse: she killed someone – someone whose friend would enact revenge! Max had lived in Gotham long enough; she knew that settling the score usually always involved the suffering of the ones closest to the guilty party. Chelsea could probably handle herself sure, but the others? There was no way they could stand much of a chance, especially not if there were others of her kind with abilities as fatal as Max's. Gibson couldn't bear the thought of something like that taking place; refusing to even allow such an act to happen. To lose the ones she loved now would no doubt throw her deeper into the turmoil of the world she was forced to partake in – and no one could be wrathful like Gibson when placed in foul enough of a mood.

"Look, I'm grateful to you Matt, really. But you can't stay here."

The young McGinnis's expression grows baffled at her words and the surety of them. "What are you talking about? I found you Max. It's my job to protect you."

"No, it was your job to protect me when I needed protecting."

"You still do!" Matt cries out incredulously, standing to his feet and scowling at her. He sure had a short temper just like his older brother. "Slaggit Max, you need protecting from that Kavin guy!"

"You can't stop him, Matt," she argues softly.

"The hell I can't."

Max growls then and leaps upward, grabbing hold of Matt and slamming him down on the bed, pinning him with bared fangs. The look of shock on his face was enough to make her heart lurch but she had to prove a point. "You can't protect me! I'm trying to save you – save you from myself!" His eyes search her golden irises in an attempt to understand as she continues on, "LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT WHAT I AM!" Her dresser shivers as the bed also quivers and seems to move upon the bedroom floor. "How can you keep me safe when I'm the monster you have to be the most afraid of?! I never asked for any of your help Matt! I never asked because I knew by doing that I'd been signing your death papers! I don't want to kill you!" The bed rises off the floor along with some of the other objects in the room as the strands of her pink curly hair float about her face as if the room had suddenly turned zero gravity. But all the while Matt simply stared – his expression morphing from confused to somehow a pitying understanding. Max hated that look he was giving as the tears suddenly dripped from her cheeks and pelted onto his.

"Max…"

"No. I can't, Matt. I cant even be close to another person without either giving them more grief or wanting to rip their throat out…"

His eyes narrowed. So the shock and fear had finally caught up with her. All those days and nights of hanging out with Chelsea, of trying to act normal and maintain her composure around the people amongst her…they were nothing more than false attempts of maintain her sanity, of pushing back the real thoughts and emotions that had been on her mind since this accident. When the door was closed, at the end of the day, he could understand that what Max was really feeling was uncertainty and fear. Gibson was thrust into an existence she'd never believed existed, much less wanted to take part of. For all this time Matt could see that his childhood friend was keeping a mask on, hiding from the reality of all the vast possibilities of what she was right now; of all the things that could go wrong – not to keep herself sane per say, but to keep herself sane with the knowledge that those closest to her would remain preserved and safe from whatever danger Gibson could possibly bring: intentionally or not. This, these tears right now, were the epitome, the painted picture of the torment poor Max faced alone in her very soul.

"Max…I'm sorry." He watched as she was now the one to not know what he was talking about. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop this from happening to you."

"Oh Matt…stop. It wasn't-."

"Maybe if I hadn't moved out none of this would have happened. Terry wouldn't have been so absorbed in using you for his usual practices of Sherlock and Watson. He could have saved you."

"No one could have saved me…"

Matt touches her cheek and bites his lip. Seeing her like this hurt him most of all – he doubted that even Terry felt this heartbroken and upset by her pain. With his free arm he covers his eyes and weeps silently, gritting his teeth as Max gasps and gently tugs on his arm. The super strength, thankfully, she had full control over at times like this. "Matt…Matt please stop." But he wept on and Gibson was at a loss of words as she stopped pinning him and gently tugged again, managing to sit him up on his butt and as sat on her knees between his legs. It seemed so strange seeing this 20 year old looking, buff 15 year old crying right here in her arms and yet she had never felt so weak before. Max had always been able to dry the young Robin's tears; but those were tears which had never been shed on her account. "Please don't cry."

Matt McGinnis removes his arm and throws his grip around about Max's back, pulling her deeper into his chest as he cried and shivered. Max held her breath, not wanting to breathe in something that would force her into a feeding frenzy. Her heart rate accelerated as she inhaled too late, and now struggled with making a meal out of her comrade and close friend. Killing random passerbys in the park was one thing, eating a family friend was another. "Maaatt."

"Whatever you have to do, do it. But I'm not letting you go, Max….never again." His lips brushed against her neck and Max couldn't help but sigh – her senses heightened now. Each touch could do things greater to her than was ever possible before as a human. She clutched his shoulder and pushed him down onto the bed, which, along with the other objects in the room, had begun to fall gently with a thud back on the floor now that she had calmed a little more now. Max closed her eyes and nestled into his arms, resting a hand on his chest and her head into his neck. She couldn't hurt someone she loved; and with that realization came a calm over her hunger. The thirst, the desire for feeding, dimmed, dimmed enough for her to relax here in the arms of a tear flooded friend.

Matt's opposite hand raised and entangled through the fingers of Max's hand on his chest as the teen sniffled and attempted to joke, "Your girlfriend's gonna be mad at us."

"Chelsea?" Max played along. "Why?"

"Isn't she your girlfriend girlfriend? I mean, you guys are so…intimate. Terry thinks you guys are fooling around."

Max scoffs. "What I do behind closed doors in none of that pervy bat's business. Besides, Chelsea's just an intimate friend. Nothing like that, I think. Anyways, she can't hate me for wanting to make you smile again. I don't like you when you're sad Matt."

McGinnis blushes and dries the last of his tears before kissing her forehead softly. They don't say anything more – just rest within the comfort of one another's arms. Though Matt couldn't help but wonder if Max could tell what he was feeling right now but was just playing it down; or if she was really just blind to the beautiful things and possibilities with what laid right here literally next to her. And with that thought in his mind, plaguing his vey thoughts, he fell asleep – and for the first time, Max's eyes closed, and she faded into a world of rest that many of her had ever or ever would experience.

************* "Matt didn't come home last night," Terry stated, throwing his jacket across his shoulders in the family den of Wayne Manor. He had been up all night doing patrols, looking for any suspicious activity. The last time he'd stopped by Max's place, Gibson was still sound asleep and Matt watching over her like a father watching over his sleeping child. Naturally he didn't like that too much. But when he woke up this morning and went into the younger brother's room only to discover it empty it became apparent that Matt never returned to Wayne Manor. His mind could only race at the multiple possibilities as to _why_.

Bruce gave a grunt and snuggled back into his arm chair, reaching for a cup of tea sitting on the table next to him. "You sound worried…or jealous?" He paused a second become diagnosing, "You sound a worried jealous." Terry rolled his eyes as Bruce added monotonously, "I hear Max hasn't fed for a few days."

"Don't put thoughts in my head old man." Terry groaned, slapping his forehead with his palm with anxiety. How could Bruce mention something like that so nonchalantly?

"She's been doing fine keeping on four legged creatures as opposed to two but Terry, she's still dangerous."

"Why are you bringing this up?" Terry demanded, grabbing his keys and preparing to head for the door.

"Because I don't think she was just trying to take a lovely stroll in a densely populated area of Gotham Park. I think she was hunting – and it wasn't squirrels." Bruce sips on his tea and sighs, looking at his son very seriously. The next words he uttered would be words of truth – but also words that Terry had been trying to avoid ever since the first realization of the incident. "The moment she takes human DNA she is to be considered the enemy. You wouldn't go back to processed hot dogs after having tried prime steak with gravy for free, now would you?"

Terry scoffed and jogged out the door and to his motorcycle, peeling out of the drive leaving the old man shaking his head. Things were growing more and more difficult. The idea of Max turning into a deadly human killing machine was unnerving for everyone. Sure she had a temper; sure she was a total bad ass when the situation called for it. The girl had tried to fight Howie's freaking girlfriend in high school! The robot! But now that she was equipped with advanced fighting skills, plus her incredible power – she was even more of a danger to the people around her. What if she had killed someone at the park? What then? And more importantly: What would Terry, Batman, have done if such a thing happened?

More and more time was passing; and although Bruce claimed there was no way to cure her it didn't stop the oldest McGinnis from doing his own research and searching. Of course, with each road there were only dead ends. Everything he thought he knew about vampires was apparently void. The girl could walk in full out sunlight for crying out loud and not burn in the slightest bit. If the sunlight bit was a lie then he didn't know what else could be done about what she was. At work Maxine thrived because sleep wasn't really something the girl needed – she could stay later, get more work done. Even Paxton was more pleased than usual. But the sincerity of Chelsea's work was questionable. Max had succeeded in going days, weeks without feeding: but wouldn't that make her more dangerous? The lack of sustenance would surely make her drive to feed all the more unbearable and fatal.

Then there was the Kavin guy. He changed those two girls: who the hell else was he changing? Was he building an army?! A harem? That was even worse! One thing was for certain: Kavin was the real enemy here. Because of him Max was suffering through this fate he placed upon her. Perhaps he was the answer. Perhaps his destruction would mean the safety of Gibson's mortality. But finding him was the real pain in the ass. This one man, no, monster, covered his tracks quite well. Batman didn't even know how to tell the difference between vampires and humans half the time. None of this was making any sense whatsoever. The stress level was rising and Matt's involvement wasn't making things any bit easier either. But there was one person who had more answers than Wayne or the McGinnis' could ever dig up.

He parked the motorcycle on the street and walked up to the front door, ringing the bell and stiffening. The door opened and he stared into the most beautiful blue eyes he'd ever seen in his life. "Terry?" Chelsea asked.

"Hey Chels. I need to talk to you about something." His voice was all serious, all business.

Cunningham narrowed her brows a little but stepped back from her doorway, allowing him to enter her home and directing him towards the living room as she closed the front door. Terry cooed in awe as he looked around before sitting in a chair. Chelsea, with her perfect good lucks, was a fashion model for Gotham's top agency. She'd done magazine covers, inserts, commercials too. With the money she made Chelsea bought herself a nice little house not far from where she lived with her father back in high school. Claimed that she liked the neighborhood. "Hungry?" she asked, coming around a bend with some buttered English muffins, scrambled eggs and turkey bacon on a tray before sitting them on the lengthy glass table and plopping on the couch. He noticed two glasses with a red liquid in it and shivered.

"Chels…"

Chelsea blinked and looked to the glass and guffawed. "Honestly Terry! It's strawberry lemonade!" Terry blushed. "Now, are you hungry?" McGinnis shook his head and Chelsea merely shrugged. "More for me. Now, what's up?" she asked, grabbing one of the muffins and cocking her head in curiosity.

"I wanted to ask you some questions."

"Vamp questions?" She watched as Terry nodded. "Well first of all, we can eat regular food. Blood isn't necessary all the time. Many of us can go months without it. But after a while we do need it. It sustains us. Some vampires prefer to feed on nothing but blood and will drink it frequently. Me? I try hold out as long as I can. Plus, I love greasy food! Especially since it does practically nothing to my figure!"

Terry chuckles in spite of himself. "Not those questions."

"Ohhh…other vamp questions."

"About the coven."

That's when Chelsea froze and stopped chewing on the muffin in her mouth before gulping it down slowly. That must have struck a nerve. "Terry…that's private."

"How is it private?" he asks incredulously. "You're not even part of the coven!"

"No, but my mom was."

"What? Is it illegal to talk about the coven?"

"No…but..It's illegal for humans to know about us unless they're servants, but apparently no one has obeyed the old laws for hundreds of years. Life was less complicated in the medieval times."

Terrence sighed and leaned back into the chair. "Alright. How about we start with your mom, then work our way up? Hmm?"

Chelsea shifted her eyes a bit before grabbing a piece of bacon and chomping on it. "Okay. But no one knows about this but Max so if you go bragging-."

"Sure!" Terry exclaims sarcastically, "I promise not to call up all our old friends and tell them that the most popular girl in school's birth mom was vampire and she just might eat you one day! Be serious Chelsea."

"Watch it batboy." Cunningham gauges his look of shock, noting that it wasn't as surprised as she had hoped. "Now. I'll tell you what I can…which might wind up being everything-."

"SO WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE YOU CAN'T TALK?!"

"Because I only talk about this stuff with Max. Now will you shut the hell up so I can start?" She raises a brow in annoyance and he calms down and grabs an English muffin to take his anger out on, ripping into the dough with a grumble. Cunningham takes a deep breath as her voice takes on a heartfelt tone. "My mother was a vampire, pure blooded. She came here to Gotham to start a new life outside of her old one since not many of the family still lived. You see, there may be a lot of us and we may be immortal, but the average vampire doesn't live past a couple hundred years. They're always getting killed: either by humans, or other vampires. My mom knew like many of the older vampires knew that the safest place for her; the place that guaranteed protection and longevity was the Coven. She joined Chezarey's coven then and stayed within it for a long time. Not long after that my mother met my dad. It was a general meeting, at a mall or something. He had no idea the woman he had fallen in love with.

"But it was after I was born that the truth came out. When my mom went into labor with me they were at home…" Chelsea's voice quiets. "A neighbor came to help while my dad ran around trying to get a hold of the paramedics. There was a bad storm that night…and my mom was having complications…long story short, after I was born my mom lost a lot of blood…she was dying. My dad left out the room for a few minutes when he heard a scream. When he came back into the room, the neighbor was laying limp across my mom…and she was drinking her dry. My mother said my father had never been so terrified in his life. After that was when things went twipped. Mom left not long after…word is she died…so that's what we told everybody. My dad resented my mother – whether because she was a vampire, or because she never told him she was – I don't know."

"And," Terry chimed in, "this Chezarey guy?"

"Wasn't very happy when he found out my mom was leaving the Coven entirely to marry a human. But he wasn't the kind of leader to stress over it. Chezarey is one of the elders, the oldest of our kind. His lifemate, er, wife Jexi is old too. They've been around a long time, ruled many lands before settling here 'x' amount of hundreds of years ago."

"So he's a senior citizen."

"Watch it Terry. Chezarey knows more about the world and war than the vast majority of us. He's been alive since before Caesar…Terry he WAS Caesar." She watched as McGinnis froze and his face betrayed an overwhelming disbelief. "The only son he and Jexi had was, get this, King Tut."

"Of Egypt?!"

"Know any other Tut's?" Chelsea rolled her eyes. "Chezarey is THE vampire. He may look old and frail now but let me assure you, he's not. His only weakness is that he can't stand the daylight. Originally none of our kind was able to withstand it."

"So how-?"

"Virgins."

"I'm sorry, what?!" McGinnis demanded, leaning forward in his chair with a yelp.

Cunningham slapped her face. He was incredibly immature despite all these years. "Virgin blood. If a vampire takes of virgin blood then they are henceforth immune to sunlight – we call them daywalkers. If two vampires who have drank virgin blood come together and make a child, then those children will be born as daywalkers. If a virgin human is turned into a vampire – i.e. Max Gibson – then when the change is complete they will also be daywalkers. But surprisingly there aren't a lot of daywalking vampires: the significance of virgin blood has pretty much become an urban myth, some vampires like Chezarey prefer to remain creatures of the night as nature made them to be…and then…well, let's be honest: it's been tough finding virgins since the 2000's. Now-a-days kids are losing their virginity at much younger ages – and killing a twelve year old will bring about much more publicity than the vamp community would like."

Terry placed his fist to his lips in thought as he sighed and looked at Chelsea sitting there on the couch looking more alluring than he had once realized. Apparently vampires were like wine – they got better with age. "Anything else you can tell me about this Cheazrey guy?"

But Cunningham shakes her head. "Not much. I only know what my mother told me. I avoid the Coven. All I know is that Chezarey has a younger brother. My mother only saw him once, but I can't remember his name. He's rootless – travels around far too much. He's a daywalker, I hear."

Terry stood and sighed. "Thanks Chels. Just one more thing: have you seen my little brother?"

"Matt? Yeah, he was still with Max last night when I left."

"Thanks."

"Terry!" Chelsea called as he prepared to walk towards the front door. "Max is going to be okay. She's stronger than you may think."

"Yeah."

************** When Matt opened his eyes he titled his head over until he was staring right into the lovely brown face of his older friend. Her eyes were open, looking right into his soul as his heart thudded. Such beautiful gold eyes. "You're awake," he whispered.

"I should be the one saying that," Max teased, her fangs showing brilliantly in her smile. "Sleep good?"

"Excellent. Hungry?"

"You've no idea."

Matt bit his lip. "What are you hungry for?"

"What do you have to offer me?" Her voice sounded so seductive and deadly. They could be discussing the terms of his ultimate demise and he wouldn't even care.

"A lot." Matt caressed her face with his index finger, watching her sigh in pleasure and feeling his groin tighten. "I want you." Where the confession came from was unclear – but he figured it had something to do with how beautiful and perfect she looked right now at this moment, laying in his arms…a place where he had wanted her to be for so long.

Yet the confession wasn't just a surprise for him. Her expression turned immediately baffled before pained as Max sat up and ran her fingers through her hair; back turned to him. "Maybe you should leave Matt."

"I don't want to leave," he argued in a whisper, propping himself up on his elbows. "I genuinely care for you Max."

"I can't do this right now," Max said. "Matt, you're 15 years old. You're my friend."

"But you have to feel the same right? Or else you wouldn't have held my hand. Max I know you like me too. I know I remind you of everything Terry was. But I'm different from him. I won't leave you. I won't leave you Max." He reached a hand and gently pulled her back down on the bed, ignoring her murmurs of protest as his lips connected with hers. She gasped, and tried to push him off – but to do that would mean hurting him…and for whatever reason she had melted to putty in his large arms. "Max," he whispered, aligning himself on top of her, spreading her thighs and groaning at the sensation of their covered sacred items touching each other. Max tried to fight the kiss, but the more she resisted the more determined he became.

"Matt…stop…" she panted, clutching his shirt and trying not to kiss him back but failing every now and then. The air grew hot, they couldn't breathe as Matt sat up long enough to remove his shirt, gaining view of his bare skin and chest before returning to the kiss, slowly grinding his self between Max's legs against her, his fingers reaching for her shorts and threatening to remove them but managing not to. Being a vampire gave her a heightened sense of sexual thrill – a thrill which Gibson did not want to release upon him. "Maaatt…stop…"

"Make me," he taunted in a husky tone, pulling their bodies closer together. Since when did he become so damn bold?! And since when did dry humping feel so good?! She had to stop this. Max growled and shoved Matt off, making him fly off the bed as she scurried back to the headboard and pulled the covers over her body. Matt stood, a smile on his face. "You liked it…went a lot longer than I thought it would."

"Matt, I love you to pieces but we can't do this."

"Because you love Terry?"

"I can't love anyone – not like this," she disputed, motioning towards her fangs with a pointed finger. "I'm sorry."

"I'm going to prove you wrong." Matt smiled, walking towards the bed, and kissing her cheek. "I may be wrong – I may grow out of these feelings some day, but right _now_? Right now-."

"Right now you're dead meat," came a voice from the bedroom door. Their eyes turned to find Terry standing at the border of the bedroom with the most hateful stare. Max revealed shame and embarrassment while Matt stood his ground and matched gazes with his older brother – content…ready. "You're dead shrimp."

_To be continued…_


End file.
